THE  COUNTRY  OF 
SIR  WALTER  r^^ ' 


CHARLES  S.  OLCOTT 


z^ 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


THE  COUNTRY 

OF 

SIR  WALTER  SCOTT 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2007  witii  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


littp://www.arcliive.org/details/countryofsirwaltOOolcoiala 


THE  COUNTRY  OF 
SIR  WALTER  SCOTT 

BY 
CHARLES   S.   OLCOTT 

Author  of  George  Eliot:  Scenes  and  People  of  Her  Novels 


ILLUSTRATED   FROM   PHOTOGRAPHS 
BY  THE  AUTHOR 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,   I913,  BY  CHARLES  S.  OLCOTT 
ALL  RIGHTS  RKSERVKD 

Published  September  igty 


TO 

MY  WIFE 

THE   COMPANION   OF  MY   TRAVELS 

TO   WHOSE   SYMPATHETIC   COOPERATION  I   AM 

INDEBTED   FOR  MUCH   OF   THE   MATERIAL 

THIS    BOOK 

IS  AFFECTIONATELY  DEDICATED 


CONTENTS 

Introduction xiii 

I.  The  'Making'  of  Sir  Walter       .      .      .      i 

n.  The  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel    ...    28 

III.  Marmion 47 

rV.  The  Lady  of  the  Lake 66 

V.   ROKEBY 86 

VI.  The  Bridal  of  Triermain        ....    96 

Vn.  The  Lord  of  the  Isles 100 

VIII.  Waverley 106 

IX.  Guy  Mannering 126 

X.  The  Antiquary 145 

XI.  The  Black  Dwarf 160 

XII.  Old  Mortality 166 

XIII.  Rob  Roy 182 

XIV.  The  Heart  of  Midlothian       .      .      .      -199 
XV.  The  Bride  of  Lammermoor      .      .      .      .215 

XVI.  A  Legend  of  Montrose 224 

XVII.   Ivanhoe 234 

XVIII.  The  Monastery 255 

XIX.  The  Abbot 265 

XX.  Kenilworth 272 

vii 


CONTENTS 

XXI.  The  Pirate 290 

XXn.  The  Fortunes  of  Nigel      ....  316 

XXni.  Peveril  of  the  Peak 328 

XXrV.  Quentin  Durward 337 

XXV.  St.  Ronan's  Well 346 

XXVI.  Redgauntlet 355 

XXVn.  Tales  of  the  Crusaders     ....  365 

XXVni.  Woodstock 371 

XXIX.  The  Fair  Maid  of  Perth    .      .      .      .378 
XXX.  The  Chronicles  of  the  Canongate  and 

Other  Tales 387 

The  Highland  Widow    ....  390 

The  Two  Drovers 390 

The  Surgeon's  Daughter  .  .  .  391 
Anne  of  Geierstein  .  .  .  .391 
Count  Robert  of  Paris       .      .      .  392 

Castle  Dangerous 393 

XXXI.    A  Successful  Life 395 

Index 407 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Portrait  of  Sir  Walter  Scott        ....  Frontispiece 

Photogravure  from  an  engraving  by  William  Walker  of  a  painting 
by  Sir  Henry  Raebum,  R.A.,  1822. 

Smailholm 2 

Kelso  Abbey 6 

The  Popping  Stone         20 

Lasswade  Cottage 24 

Map  of  Scotland 30 

Showing  localities  of  Scott's  writings 

St.  Mary's  Loch 34 

Branksome  Hall       . 38 

Melrose  Abbey 42 

ashestiel 48 

Entrance  to  Norham  Castle 52 

LiNDISFARNE  AbBEY $6 

Tantallon  Castle 60 

Loch  Achray 68 

Cambusmore        72 

Glenfinglas 76 

Stirling  Castle         82 

Brackenbury  Tower,  Barnard  Castle       ....  88 

The  Valley  of  the  Tees ,      .  94 

From  Barnard  Castle 

The  Valley  of  St.  John 98 

Showing  Triermain  Castle  Rock 

Turnberry  Castle,  Coast  of  Ayrshire      ....  104 

Grandtully  Castle 110 

« 

iz 


ILLUSTRATIONS 
DouKE  Castle 120 

From  the  Teith 

Ullswater 124 

Waverley's  retreat  after  the  defeat  of  the  Chevalier 

Caerlaverock  Castle 128 

Edinburgh  from  the  Castle 142 

AucHMiTHiE 156 

The  Black  Dwarf's  Cottage 162 

Craignethan  Castle   (Tillietudlem) 172 

Crichope  Linn 178 

Chillingham  Castle 190 

Loch  Lomond  from  Inversnaid 196 

St.  Anthony's  Chapel 210 

Crichton  Castle 222 

Loch  Lubnaig .      .  230 

Map  of  England 234 

Showing  localities  of  Scott's  writings 

Castle  of  Ashby  de  la  Zouch 236 

The  Buck-Gate 238 

Entrance  to  the  Duke  of  Portland's  estate,  Sherwood  Forest 

The  Avenue  of  Limes,  Sherwood  Forest  ....  240 

Interior  of  Fountains  Abbey 244 

CONINGSBURGH  CaSTLE 248 

Cathcart  Castle 270 

Leicester's  Buildings,  Kenilworth 274 

Cesar's  Tower,  Kenilworth  278 

Entrance  to  Warwick  Castle        282 

Mervyn's  Tower,  Kenilworth 286 

Lerwick,  Shetland 292 

A  Crofter's  Cottage,  Orkney         294 

SuMBURGH  Head,  Shetland  ........  298 

t 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Scalloway,  Shetland 302 

The  Standing  Stones  of  Stennis 310 

Stromness,  Orkney 314 

Map  of  London 318 

Showing  localities  of  Scott's  writings 
The  Pack-Horse  Bridge,  Haddon  Hall     ....  330 

The  Saxon  Tower,  Isle  of  Man 334 

The  Tweed  and  Eildon  Hills 348 

Scott's  Tomb,  Dryburgh 352 

Hoddam  Castle 360 

Powis  Castle,  Wales 368 

Godstow  Priory 374 

Biirial-place  of '  The  Fair  Rosamond 

Loch  Tay 380 

House  of  the  Fair  Maid  of  Perth 384 

Abbotsford 396 

Scott  Monument,  Edinburgh 404 


INTRODUCTION 

On  the  first  day  of  May,  191 1,  we  began  our  exploration 
of  the  '  Scott  Country.'  I  say  we,  because  I  was  accom- 
panied by  the  companion  of  a  much  longer  journey, 
of  which  that  year  was  the  twenty-fifth  milestone. 
Whether  from  reasons  of  sentiment  resulting  from  the 
near  approach  of  our  silver  anniversary,  or  because  of 
more  prosaic  geographical  considerations,  we  began  at 
the  place  where  Walter  Scott  discovered  that  he  would 
be  likely  to  see  more  of  the  beauty  of  life  if  he  were 
equipped  with  two  pairs  of  eyes  rather  than  one.  This 
was  at  the  village  of  Gilsland,  in  the  north  of  England, 
where  the  poet  first  met  the  companion  who  was  to  share 
the  joys  and  sorrows  of  the  best  years  Of  his  life.  A  pony 
and  dogcart  took  us  clattering  up  to  the  top  of  the  hill, 
where,  leaving  our  conveyance,  we  started  down  the 
glen  to  the  banks  of  the  river  Irthing.  Here  the  camera 
promptly  responded  to  the  call  of  a  beautiful  view  and 
the  first  exposure  was  made:  —  a  gently  flowing  stream 
of  shallow  water,  scarcely  covering  the  rocky  bed  of  the 
river;  a  pleasant  path  along  the  bank,  well  shaded  from 
the  sun;  and  a  slender  little  waterfall  in  the  distance;  — 
the  same  scene  which  so  often  met  the  eyes  of  Walter 
Scott  and  his  future  bride  as  they  strolled  along  the 
stream  in  their  'courting'  days. 

This  was  the  beginning  of  a  tour  which  eventually  led 
into  nearly  every  county  of  Scotland,  as  far  north  as  the 
Shetland  Islands,  and  through  a  large  part  of  England 

ziii 


INTRODUCTION 

and  Wales.  We  went  wherever  we  thought  we  might 
find  a  beautiful  or  an  interesting  picture,  connected  in 
some  way  with  the  life  of  Sir  Walter,  or  mentioned  by 
him  in  some  novel  or  poem.  Knowing  that  he  had 
derived  his  inspiration  from  an  intimate  knowledge  of 
the  country,  we  sought  to  follow  his  footsteps  so  far  as 
possible.  Months  of  preparation  had  been  devoted  to 
the  work  before  leaving  home.  Every  novel  and  poem 
had  to  be  read,  besides  many  books  of  reference,  includ- 
ing, of  course,  Lockhart's  Life,  for  it  would  not  have  been 
safe  to  trust  to  the  recollections  of  earlier  reading.  Notes 
were  made  of  the  places  to  be  sought,  and  two  large 
maps  were  prepared  on  which  I  marked  circles  with  a  red 
pencil  around  all  points  which  I  thought  ought  to  be 
visited,  until  my  maps  began  to  look  as  though  they 
were  suffering  from  a  severe  attack  of  measles.  Then 
the  route  was  laid  out  by  'centres.'  The  first  was  Car- 
lisle, then  Dumfries,  Melrose,  Edinburgh,  Berwick, 
Glasgow,  Stirling,  Callander,  the  Trossachs,  Oban,  and 
so  on  until  the  entire  country  had  been  covered.  From 
each  'centre'  as  a  convenient  p>oint  of  departure  we 
explored  the  coimtry  in  many  directions,  visiting  so  far 
as  possible  every  scene  of  the  novels  and  poems  that 
could  be  identified. 

It  was  surprising  to  find  so  many  of  these  scenes 
exactly  as  Sir  Walter  had  described  them.  The  moun- 
tains and  valleys,  the  rivers,  lakes,  and  waterfalls,  the 
wild  ruggedness  of  the  seaside  cliffs,  the  quaint  little 
old-fashioned  villages,  the  ruined  castles  and  abbeys,  all 
brought  back  memories  of  the  romances  which  he  had  so 
charmingly  set  amidst  these  scenes.  It  was  like  actually 
living  the  Waverley  Novels  to  see  them.  And  in  seeing 

ziv 


INTRODUCTION 

them,  we  came  to  know,  on  intimate  tenns.  Sir  Walter 
himself;  to  feel  the  genial  influence  of  his  presence  as  if 
he  were  a  fellow  traveller,  and  to  love  him  as  his  com- 
panions had  done  a  century  ago. 

But  our  constant  purpose  was  to  do  more  than  this. 
With  the  help  of  the  camera  we  sought  to  catch  some- 
thing of  the  spirit  of  the  scenery  and  to  bring  it  home 
with  us,  in  the  hope  that  those  who  have  never  seen  the 
'  Scott  Coimtry '  might  at  least  have  a  few  glimpses  of  it, 
and  that  those  who  have  seen  all  or  a  part  of  it,  might 
find  in  these  views  a  pleasant  reminder  of  what  must 
have  been  a  happy  experience. 

There  is  no  occasion  to  add  at  the  present  time  to  the 
volmne  of  hterary  criticism  of  such  well-known  novels 
and  poems  as  those  of  Scott,  nor  is  it  possible  to  add 
any  material  facts  to  his  biography.  This  book  makes 
no  such  claim.  It  does  not  attempt  to  retell  the  ro- 
mances, except  in  so  far  as  may  be  necessary  to  explain 
their  connexion  with  the  scenery  or  to  introduce  the 
'original'  of  some  well-known  character.  If  a  glimpse 
of  the  novelist's  genial  face  is  seen  now  and  then,  it  is 
because  his  spirit  pervades  every  nook  and  comer  of 
bonnie  Scotland,  and  it  would  be  impossible  for  appre- 
ciative eyes  to  view  the  scenery  without  seeing  some- 
thing of  the  man  whose  genius  has  added  so  greatly  to 
its  charm. 

If  this  book  shall  add  to  the  pleasure  of  any  of  the 
readers  of  Sir  Walter  Scott  by  bringing  them  into  the 
atmosphere  of  his  novels  and  poems,  and  so  a  little 
nearer  to  the  kindly  personality  of  the  man,  its  purpose 
will  have  been  fulfilled. 


THE  COUNTRY 
OF  SIR  WALTER  SCOTT 

CHAPTER  I 

THE  *  making'  of  SIR  WALTER 

'He  was  makin'  himsel'  a'  the  time,  but  he  didna  ken 
maybe  what  he  was  about  till  years  had  passed;  at  first 
he  thought  o'  little,  I  dare  say,  but  the  queerness  and 
the  fun.' 

In  these  expressive  words,  Robert  Shortreed,  who 
guided  Walter  Scott  on  the  celebrated  *  raids '  into  the 
Liddesdale  country,  correctly  summarized  the  youth 
and  early  manhood  of  the  future  poet  and  novelist. 
Scott  was  thirty-four  years  old  when  the  'Lay  of  the 
Last  Minstrel'  appeared,  and  had  reached  the  mature 
age  of  forty-three  before  he  published  the  first  of  the 
Waverley  Novels.  But  from  early  childhood  he  was 
busily  engaged,  with  more  or  less  conscious  purpose,  in 
gathering  the  materials  for  his  future  work. 

It  is  the  purpose  of  this  chapter  to  show,  by  a  brief 
survey  of  these  preparatory  years,  how  he  acquired  that 
intimate  knowledge  of  human  nature  that  enabled  him 
to  record  so  truthfully  and  with  such  real  s)nnpathy  the 
thoughts  and  feelings,  the  hopes  and  fears,  the  manners 
of  life,  the  dress,  the  conversation,  and  the  personal 
peculiarities  of  people  of  every  degree,  from  Mary, 
Queen  of  Scots,  to  Meg  Merrilies,  the  Queen  of  the 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

Gipsies;  from  the  lordly  Earl  of  Montrose  down  to  the 
humblest  of  the  Children  of  the  Mist.  It  will  also  aim 
to  suggest  something  of  the  method  by  which  he  learned 
to  paint  such  charming  pictures  of  ancient  castles  and 
ruined  abbeys,  of  princes'  palaces  and  fishermen's 
cottages,  of  rocky  shores  and  wild  paths  through  the 
woods,  of  rivers,  lakes,  and  mountains,  and  all  the  other 
elements  that  make  up  the  varied  and  beautiful  scenery 
of  Scotland  and  England. 

In  the  hilly  coimtry  south  of  Edinburgh,  standing 
alone  on  a  high  rock,  is  an  old  feudal  tower  called  Smail- 
holm.  Outlined  against  the  western  sky,  in  the  glow  of 
a  summer  simset,  it  seemed  to  us  like  a  proud  and  beau- 
tiful capital  letter  *I,'  saying  with  some  emphasis  on  the 
personal  pronoim,  */  am  a  thing  of  some  importance.' 
We  forgave  the  egotism,  for  the  old  tower  really  is  im- 
portant, marking  the  very  beginning  of  Walter  Scott's 
career,  the  spot  where  he  received  his  first  poetic  im- 
pulse. Here  at  the  age  of  three  years,  he  roUed  about  on 
the  rocks  with  the  sheep  and  lambs  as  if  he  were  one  of 
them.  He  had  been  brought  to  Sandy  Knowe,  the  home 
of  his  grandfather,  in  an  effort  to  save  his  life,  for  he  had 
been  a  sickly  child,  and  six  brothers  and  sisters  had  died 
in  infancy,  so  that  his  parents  were  naturally  more  than 
anxious.  The  life  out  of  doors  soon  brought  a  marked 
improvement,  and  except  for  the  lameness,  which  never 
left  him,  the  boy  became  healthy  and  vigorous.  He  was 
attended  by  an  old  shepherd,  known  as  the  *  cow-bailie,' 
who  had  a  great  fund  of  Border  stories,  to  which  the  lad 
listened  eagerly. 

A  devoted  aunt,  Miss  Janet  Scott,  who  lived  at  the 
farm,  often  read  to  him  stories  of  Bible  heroes  and  of  the 


THE  'MAKING'  OF  SIR  WALTER 

great  men  of  Scottish  history.  From  a  few  volumes  of 
miscellaneous  poetry  which  the  family  chanced  to  own, 
she  read  some  Scottish  ballads  which  quickly  seized 
upon  his  childish  fancy.  He  was  especially  fond  of  his- 
torical tales,  and  xmder  the  shadow  of  the  old  tower  he 
used  to  marshal  the  armies  of  Scotland  and  England, 
fighting  their  battles  with  mimic  forces  of  pebbles  and 
shells,  and  always  ending  the  conflict  with  the  complete 
rout  of  the  English  and  the  triumph  of  the  Scottish 
arms.  One  day  he  was  missed  during  a  violent  thunder- 
storm, and  the  household  set  out  in  search  of  him.  He 
was  foimd  lying  on  his  back  on  the  rocks,  kicking  his 
heels  in  the  air  and  clapping  his  hands  with  delight  as 
he  watched  the  vivid  lightning ;  and  as  one  flash  followed 
another,  each  more  brilliant  than  the  one  before,  he 
would  shout,  'Bonnie!  Bonnie!!  Dae  it  again!  Dae  it 
again!'  I  like  to  think  of  this  scene  as  symbolic;  as  a 
prophecy  of  the  time,  soon  to  come,  when  the  lad,  grown 
to  manhood,  would  be  sending  out  flash  after  flash  of 
his  genius  while  the  whole  world  looked  on  in  delight, 
shouting,  'Bonnie!  Bonnie! !  Dae  it  again!  Dae  it 
again!' 

How  much  the  old  tower  of  Smailholm  really  had  to 
do  with  Scott's  earliest  poetic  fancy  he  has  himself  told 
in  a  touching  reference  in  the  Introduction  to  the  Third 
Canto  of  '  Marmion ' :  — 

And  still  I  thought  that  shattered  tower 
The  mightiest  work  of  human  power, 
And  marvelled  as  the  aged  hind 
With  some  strange  tale  bewitched  my  mind. 

He  made  it  the  setting  of  one  of  his  earliest  poems,  'The 
Eve  of  St.  John,'  and  probably  had  it  in  mind,  when 

3 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

writing  'The  Monastery'  and  'The  Abbot/  as  the  orig- 
inal of  Avenel  Castle.  SmaUholm  was  once  surrounded 
by  water,  all  of  which  has  been  drained  off  except  a  very 
small  portion  on  the  eastern  side.  With  the  addition  of 
the  original  lake  it  would  make  a  very  good  prototype 
of  Avenel. 

At  the  age  of  six,  Scott  was  taken  for  a  visit  to  Pres- 
tonpans,  where  he  made  the  acquaintance  of  George 
Constable,  the  original  of  Monkbarns  in  'The  Anti- 
quary.' This  statement  should  be  qualified,  however, 
for  Scott  himself  was  the  real  'Antiquary'  in  many 
ways.  None  but  a  genuine  antiquarian  could  ever  have 
written  that  keen  bit  of  himiorous  characterization. 
This  old  gentleman,  besides  giving  Scott  his  first  knowl- 
edge of  Shakespeare,  told  him  many  excellent  stories  of 
the  'affair  of  1745'  and  of  the  battle  of  Prestonpans. 
Here  he  also  made  the  acquaintance  of  an  old  man  who 
had  seen  much  service  in  the  German  wars  and  who  was 
delighted  to  find  a  good  listener  to  his  tales  of  military 
feats.  Under  the  guidance  of  this  old  soldier,  whose 
name,  Dalgetty,  subsequently  reappears  in  'A  Legend 
of  Montrose,'  he  explored  the  battle-field,  heard  the 
story  of  Colonel  Gardiner's  death,  and  found  the  grave 
of  'Balmawhapple,'  'where  the  grass  grew  rank  and 
green,  distinguishing  it  from  the  rest  of  the  field.'  This 
was  in  1777,  when  Scott  was  only  six.  Thirty-seven 
years  later  these  early  impressions  found  a  place  in 
'Waverley.' 

At  about  the  same  period  young  Walter  was  presented 
with  a  Shetland  pony,  an  animal  not  so  large  as  a  full- 
grown  Newfoundland  dog.  He  soon  learned  to  ride,  and 
often  frightened  his  Aimt  Jenny  by  dashing  recklessly 


THE  'MAKING'  OF  SIR  WALTER 

over  the  rocks  about  the  tower.  The  importance  of  the 
event  lies  in  the  fact  that  it  was  the  beginning  of  Scott's 
fondness  for  horseback  riding,  his  proficiency  in  which 
played  an  important  part  in  later  years,  enabling  him  to 
gather  valuable  material  that  would  not  otherwise  have 
been  accessible.  Scott's  father  now  thought  best  to  bring 
him  back  to  Edinburgh,  where  he  lived  the  Ufe  of  an 
average  schoolboy,  with  this  difference,  that  his  lame- 
ness frequently  confined  him  to  the  house,  compelling 
him  to  seek  his  amusement  in  books  instead  of  romping 
with  his  fellows  in  George's  Square.  At  twelve  years, 
and  again  a  little  later,  he  went  for  a  vacation  visit  to  his 
Aunt  Jenny,  —  Miss  Janet  Scott,  —  who  was  then 
living  at  Kelso  in  a  small  house,  pleasantly  situated  in 
a  garden  of  seven  or  eight  acres,  'full  of  long  straight 
walks,  between  hedges  of  yew  and  hornbeam'  and 
'thickets  of  flowery  shrubs.'  The  Grammar  School  of 
Kelso  was  attached  to  the  old  Abbey.  Here  he  met  the 
two  men  who,  though  lifelong  friends,  were  destined  to 
bring  to  Walter  Scott  the  saddest  experience  of  his 
career  —  James  and  John  Ballantyne,  the  publishers, 
whose  failure  clouded  the  last  years  of  the  novelist's 
life,  forcing  upon  him  the  payment  of  a  debt  of  £117,000, 
—  a  task  which  he  manfully  assimied,  and  wore  out  his 
life  in  the  execution  of  it.  Another  school  fellow  here 
was  Robert  Waldie,  whose  mother  showed  Scott  many 
attentions.  It  was  through  his  association  with  'Lady 
Waldie,'  who  was  a  member  of  the  Society  of  Friends, 
that  Scott  in  subsequent  years  was  enabled  to  paint  the 
lovely  picture  of  the  home  life  at  Mount  Sharon  of 
Joshua  Geddes  and  his  sister,  which  adds  so  much  to  the 
pleasure  of '  Redgauntlet.' 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

An  old  vault  in  Kelso  Abbey  was  used  as  the  village 
prison  —  the  kind  of  a  jail  which  Edie  Ochiltree  thought 
'wasna  so  dooms  bad  a  place  as  it  was  ca'd.'  No  doubt 
the  real  Edie  was  often  confined  here.  He  was  an  old 
mendicant,  well  known  in  the  neighbourhood,  by  the 
name  of  Andrew  Gemmels.  Scott  met  him  often.  Many 
curious  stories  are  related  of  his  eccentricities.  He  was 
once  presented  with  a  good  suit  of  clothes  which  he 
thankfully  accepted.  The  friendly  donor  chanced  to 
meet  him  later  in  the  day,  dragging  the  clothes  behind 
him  along  the  road  through  the  dirt  and  mud.  Being 
asked  why  he  treated  the  gift  in  that  way  he  replied  that 
he  would  have  '  to  trail  the  duds  that  way  for  twa  days, 
to  mak  them  fit  for  use.' 

A  few  miles  southeast  of  Kelso,  in  the  village  of  Kirk 
Yetholm,  Scott  picked  up  another  of  his  most  famous 
characters  —  the  picturesque  Meg  Merrilies.  Kirk 
Yetholm  was  in  Scott's  boyhood,  and  even  later  in  his 
life,  the  headquarters  of  a  large  gipsy  tribe.  Such  a 
people  could  not  fail  to  interest  one  of  his  temperament 
and  he  soon  came  to  know  them  on  familiar  terms.  The 
Queen  of  the  Gipsies  introduced  herself  by  giving  him 
an  apple.  She  was  a  woman  of  extraordinary  height, 
dressed  in  a  long  red  cloak,  who  naturally  inspired  the 
boy  with  a  feeling  of  awe.  Her  name  was  Madge  Gor- 
don, a  granddaughter  of  Jean  Gordon,  the  most  famous 
of  the  Gipsies.  Jean's  history  was  well  known.  She  was 
an  ardent  Jacobite,  and  met  her  death  at  Carlisle  in 
1746,  in  a  most  inhuman  fashion,  being  drowned  by  a 
mob  in  the  river  Eden.  She  was  a  powerful  woman  and 
as  the  men  struggled  to  keep  her  head  under  the  water, 
she  kept  coming  to  the  surface,  each  time  screaming, 

6 


KELSO    ABBEY 


THE  'MAKING'  OF  SIR  WALTER 

'Charlie  yet!  Charlie  yet!'  Scott  as  a  child  often  heard 
her  story  and  cried  piteously  for  old  Jean  Gordon.  She 
was  the  real  Meg  Merrilies. 

During  his  frequent  visits  to  Kelso  and  subsequent 
residence  at  Rosebank,  near  by,  Scott  explored  the 
country  in  every  direction.  He  rode  over  the  battle- 
field of  Flodden,  becoming  convinced  that  'never  was 
an  affair  more  completely  bungled.'  He  explored  the 
heights  of  Branxton  Hill,  and  riding  through  the  village 
of  Coldstream,  passed  the  old  town  of  Lennel,  where 
Marmion  paused  on  the  eve  of  the  battle.  Then  recross- 
ing  the  river,  he  came  to  Twisel  Bridge,  and  following 
the  course  of  the  Tweed,  reached  the  ruins  of  Norham 
Castle,  where  Marmion  was  entertained  by  Sir  Hugh 
Heron.  This  was  an  old  Border  fortress  which  passed 
from  Scottish  to  English  hands  and  back  again  for  sev- 
eral centuries.  Thus,  without  conscious  effort,  Scott 
laid  the  foundation  for  'Marmion'  early  in  life,  though 
the  poem  did  not  take  final  shape  imtil  nearly  twenty 
years  later. 

When  not  spending  his  vacations  in  the  country,  Scott 
was  attending  the  college  in  Edinburgh  and  later  pre- 
paring himself  for  the  practice  of  the  law.  During  all 
these  years  the  gathering  of  materials  for  his  future 
writings  continued.  A  favourite  companion  of  the  days 
in  Edinburgh  was  John  Irving.  On  Saturdays,  or  more 
frequently  during  vacations,  the  two  used  to  borrow 
three  or  four  books  from  the  circulating  library  and 
walk  to  SaUsbury  Crags,  climb  high  up  to  some  se- 
questered nook  and  read  the  books  together.  After 
continmng  this  practice  for  two  years,  during  which 
they  devoured  a  prodigious  number  of  volumes,  Scott 

7 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

proposed  that  they  should  make  up  adventures  of  their 
favourite  knights-errant,  and  recite  them  to  each  other 
alternately  —  a  pastime  in  which  Scott  greatly  excelled 
his  companion.  At  this  time  the  former  began  to  coUect 
old  ballads,  and  as  Irving's  mother  knew  a  great  many, 
he  used  to  go  to  her  and  learn  all  she  could  repeat.  Salis- 
bury Crags  and  Arthur's  Seat  found  their  way  into 
'Waverley,'  and  later,  with  St.  Leonard's  Hill,  in  the 
same  vicinity,  became  the  background  for  the  earlier 
chapters  of  the  'Heart  of  Midlothian.'  The  ruins  of  St. 
Anthony's  Chapel,  on  the  ascent  to  Arthur's  Seat,  must 
have  been  one  of  these  favourite  nooks.  Blackford  Hill, 
the  third  of  these  resorts,  hes  south  of  Edinburgh.  Here 
Scott  carried  Marmion  for  that  superb  view  of  Edin- 
burgh, 'mine  own  romantic  town,'  so  well  described  in 
the  poem :  — . 

Still  on  the  spot  Lord  Marmion  stayed, 
For  fairer  scene  he  ne'er  surveyed. 

The  scene  is  stiU  a  beautiful  one,  for  though  the  plain 
that  held  the  Scottish  camp  is  now  filled  with  well- 
built  suburban  homes,  we  still  may  see 

Yon  Empress  of  the  North 
Sit  on  her  hilly  throne, 
Her  palace's  imperial  bowers, 
>  Her  castle,  proof  to  hostile  powers. 

Her  stately  halls  and  holy  towers. 

So  great  was  Scott's  love  of  the  picturesque  and  espec- 
ially of  the  old  feudal  castles  that  he  yearned  to  become 
a  painter.  But  it  was  of  no  use.  His  lessons  came  to 
naught  and  he  could  make  no  progress.  Perhaps  this 
was  fortunate,  for,  as  Lockhart  points  out,  success  with 
the  pencil  might  have  interfered  with  his  future  great- 

8 


THE  'MAKING'  OF  SIR  WALTER 

ness  as  a  'painter  with  the  pen.'  At  fifteen,  Scott  entered 
upon  an  apprenticeship  to  his  father  as  a  writer's 
(lawyer's)  clerk,  during  which  period  he  formed  an  inti- 
mate companionship  with  a  relative  of  his  friend  Irving, 
William  Clerk,  a  young  man  of  good  intellect  and  many 
accomplishments.  The  experiences  of  these  two  young 
law  students  will  be  found  in  'Redgauntlet.'  Wilham 
Clerk  was  the  Darsie  Latimer  of  that  story,  while  Scott 
himself  was  Alan  Fairford.  Alan's  precise  and  digni- 
fied father,  Mr.  Saunders  Fairford,  whose  highest  hope 
in  life  was  to  see  his  son  attain  'the  proudest  of  all 
distinctions  —  the  rank  and  fame  of  a  well-employed 
lawyer,'  was  a  fairly  good  portrait  of  Scott's  own  father. 
The  house  in  which  the  Fairfords  lived  was  in  Brown 
Square,  then  considered  'an  extremely  elegant  improve- 
ment.' It  is  still  standing,  and  is  now  used  as  a  dental 
college.  Old  'Peter  Peebles,'  whose  interminable  lawsuit 
was  used  for  young  lawyers  to  practise  on,  actually 
existed  and  haunted  the  law  courts  at  this  time.  Scott 
himself  admits  that  he  took  his  turn  as  '  counsel '  to  the 
grotesque  old  litigant. 

The  Edinburgh  of  Scott's  day  was  still  chiefly  con- 
fined to  the  Old  Town.  High  Street  in  those  days  was 
considered  the  most  magnificent  street  in  the  world. 
Again  and  again  Scott  refers  to  it.  At  one  end  is  the 
great  Castle,  old  enough  to  remember  the  time  when 
even  the  Old  Town  did  not  exist.  Lower  down  is  St. 
Giles  and  the  Parliament  House.  Next  to  St.  Giles  is 
the  site  of  the  Old  Tolbooth,  which,  after  serving  the 
city  as  a  prison  for  two  hundred  and  fifty  years,  was 
pulled  down  in  1 817.  In  Writer's  Court  in  the  same 
locality  was  the  tavern  where  the  lawyers  held  'high 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

jinks'  in  'Guy  Mannering.*  Greyfriars  Church,  where 
Colonel  Mannering  heard  a  sermon  by  Scott's  old 
friend,  the  Rev.  John  Erskine,  is  not  far  off.  Down  the 
street,  in  the  part  called  the  Canongate,  is  the  house  of 
the  Eari  of  Murray,  the  Regent  of  Scotland  in  Queen 
Mary's  time,  who  jBgures  prominently  in  'The  Abbot.' 
Street  fighting  was  a  common  occurrence  in  Edinburgh 
in  those  days  and  there  is  a  good  description  of  such  a 
broil  in  'The  Abbot.'  'My  Lord  Seton's  Lodging,' 
where  Roland  Graeme  took  refuge  after  a  scrimmage,  is 
in  the  same  street,  and  a  little  farther  on  is  the  '  White 
Horse  Close,'  where  the  officers  of  Prince  Charles  made 
their  headquarters  in  '  Waverley.'  Holyrood  Palace  is  at 
the  extreme  end  of  the  street,  about  a  mile  from  the 
Castle.  The  great  ball,  which  Scott  describes  in  '  Wav- 
erley,' was  given  here  by  the  young  Chevalier,  Charles 
Edward  Stuart,  on  the  evening  of  September  17,  1745. 
While  still  in  his  fifteenth  year,  Scott  made  his  first 
excursion  into  the  Highlands  of  Perthshire  through 
scenery  unsurpassed  in  natural  beauty  by  any  other 
region  in  all  Scotland.  Approaching  from  the  south,  he 
rode  over  the  mountains,  through  a  pass  no  longer  acces- 
sible, known  as  the  Wicks  of  Baiglie.  Here  'he  beheld, 
stretching  beneath  him,  the  valley  of  the  Tay,  traversed 
by  its  ample  and  lordly  stream ;  the  town  of  Perth,  with 
its  two  large  meadows,  or  Inches,  its  steeples  and  its 
towers :  the  hills  of  Moncreiff  and  Kinnoul  faintly  rising 
into  picturesque  rocks,  partly  clothed  with  woods;  the 
rich  margin  of  the  river,  studded  with  elegant  mansions ; 
and  the  distant  view  of  the  huge  Grampian  Mountains, 
the  northern  screen  of  this  exquisite  landscape.'  These 
words  were  written  as  part  of  the  Introduction  to  the 

10 


THE  'MAKING'  OF  SIR  WALTER 

'Fair  Maid  of  Perth'  in  1828.  The  impression  they 
record  was  made  upon  the  mind  of  a  boy  of  fifteen,  forty- 
two  years  earHer.  On  this  visit,  no  doubt,  he  saw  the 
original  house  of  Simon  Glover  in  Curfew  Street,  and  also 
the  home  of  Hal  o'  the  Wynd,  not  far  away.  Both  houses 
still  remain,  and  the  stories  connected  with  them  were 
of  course  current  in  Scott's  time. 

During  all  the  time  that  the  scenes  and  the  stories 
connected  with  this  and  other  excursions  were  making 
their  impress  upon  the  mind  of  Walter  Scott,  it  must  be 
remembered  that  he  was  not  thinking  of  any  ultimate 
use  of  them  in  literature,  but  was  only  ambitious  to 
make  a  success  of  his  chosen  profession  of  the  law.  It  so 
happened  that  one  of  the  earhest  duties  which  fell  to  his 
lot  as  a  writer's  apprentice  was  to  serve  a  writ  upon  a 
certain  obstreperous  family  in  the  Braes  of  Balquhidder, 
the  country  made  famous  by  the  exploits  of  Rob  Roy. 
Fearing  that  the  execution  of  the  simamons  would  be 
resisted,  an  escort  of  a  sergeant  and  six  men  was  pro- 
cured, and  Scott,  a  young  man  of  scarcely  sixteen, 
marched  into  the  Highlands,  'riding,'  as  he  said,  'in  all 
the  dignity  of  danger,  with  a  front  and  rear  guard,  and 
loaded  arms.'  The  sergeant  was  full  of  good  stories, 
principally  about  Rob  Roy,  and  proved  to  be  a  very 
good  companion.  This  expedition  was  Scott's  first 
introduction  to  the  scenery  around  Loch  Katrine,  which 
later  owed  most  of  its  fame  to  his  pen.  It  enabled  him, 
by  actual  contact  with  the  Highland  clans,  to  learn  for 
the  first  time  some  of  the  thrilling  tales  with  which  the 
region  abounded  and  to  become  familiar  with  the 
habits,  the  speech,  the  dress,  and  all  the  other  marked 
characteristics  of  a  romantic  people.    The  delightful 

II 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

scenery  of  Loch  Vennachar,  Loch  Achray,  and  Loch 
Katrine,  the  nigged  slopes  of  Ben  Venue  and  Ben  An, 
the  more  distant  peaks  of  Ben  Lomond  and  Ben  Ledi, 
the  tangled  masses  of  foliage  in  the  'deep  Trossachs' 
wildest  nook,'  —  all  appealed  at  once  to  the  artistic  sense 
within  him,  to  his  poetic  feeling,  and  to  his  love  of 
nature.  'The  Lady  of  the  Lake'  was  not  written  until 
twenty-three  years  later,  but  the  germ  of  that  poem  was 
planted  in  his  bosom  by  this  first  youthful  experience 
and  its  writing  was  only  a  labor  of  love. 

On  his  subsequent  excursions  to  the  Highlands,  Scott 
gathered  some  valuable  material  which  later  appeared 
in  'Waverley.'  He  found  one  old  gentleman  who  had 
been  obliged  to  make  a  journey  to  the  cave  of  Rob  Roy, 
where  he  dined  on  '  coUops '  or  steaks,  cut  from  his  own 
cattle.  This  cavern  is  on  Loch  Lomond  in  the  midst  of 
most  beautiful  scenery.  Scott  makes  it  the  retreat  of 
Donald  Bean  Lean  in  *  Waverley,'  but  does  not  refer  to 
it  in  his  story  of  'Rob  Roy.'  From  another  aged  gentle- 
man he  heard  the  history  of  Doune  Castle,  a  fine  old 
ruin  on  the  river  Teith,  near  Stirling,  and  this  he  also 
introduced  into  'Waverley.'  The  story  of  Waverley's 
saving  the  life  of  Colonel  Talbot  and  the  death  at  Car- 
lisle of  Fergus  Mad vor  are  based  upon  incidents  related 
to  Scott  at  this  time. 

Among  the  many  places  visited  was  Craighall,  in 
Perthshire,  from  which  some  of  the  features  of  TuUy 
Veolan  were  copied.  The  situation  of  this  coimtry-seat 
was  convenient  for  the  story,  and  near  by  was  a  cave, 
similar  to  that  in  which  the  Baron  of  Bradwardine 
sought  concealment.  But  there  is  another  house,  a  little 
to  the  west,  on  the  river  Tay,  which  is  said  to  correspond 

12 


THE  'MAKING'  OF  SIR  WALTER 

even  more  closely  with  Scott's  description.  This  is 
Grandtully  Castle,  the  beautiful  estate  of  the  Stewart 
family.  Another  house  which  entered  into  this  com- 
posite picture  was  the  residence  of  the  Earl  of  Traquair, 
a  place  on  the  Scottish  Border  weU  known  to  Scott  and 
frequently  visited  by  him  during  the  time  when  he  was 
writing  ^Waverley.'  It  has  a  curious  entrance  gate, 
surmounted  by  some  queer-looking  bears,  which  doubt- 
less suggested  the  Bears  of  Bradwardine. 

These  numerous  excursions,  however  fruitful  they 
may  have  proved  in  later  years,  were  not  by  any  means 
the  chief  business  of  Scott's  life  at  this  time.  They  were 
only  vacation  trips,  except  the  first,  which  seems  to  have 
had  a  business  purpose.  He  was  for  the  most  part  hard 
at  work  in  Edinburgh  in  the  study  of  the  law  and  in  the 
duties  of  a  writer's  apprentice,  which  meant  copying  by 
hand  page  after  page  of  legal  documents,  sometimes 
accomplishing  as  much  as  a  hundred  and  twenty  pages 
in  one  day.  In  1792,  at  the  age  of  twenty-one,  he  suc- 
cessfully passed  the  law  examinations  and  was  admitted 
to  the  Bar,  very  much  to  his  father's  delight.  The  real 
Alan  Fairford  and  Darsie  Latimer  'put  on  the  gown'  the 
same  day,  a  solemn  ceremony  followed  by  a  jolly  dinner 
to  their  companions. 

Scott  was  now  a  fine,  handsome  young  fellow  with  a 
host  of  friends.  The  sickliness  of  childhood  had  given 
way  to  a  robust  and  vigorous  manhood.  His  lameness 
still  remained,  but  in  spite  of  this  he  had  acquired  the 
frame  of  a  young  athlete.  He  was  tall,  well  formed,  big- 
chested,  and  powerful.  His  complexion  was  fresh  and 
even  brilliant;  his  eyes  were  bright  and  twinkling  with 
fun;  there  was  a  queer  little  look  about  his  lips  as  though 

13 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

they  were  about  to  break  out  into  some  funny  remark  — 
an  expression  that  was  the  delight  of  all  his  friends  and 
the  despair  of  portrait  painters.  Perhaps  the  most 
striking  feature  of  his  face  was  the  high  forehead,  be- 
speaking intellectual  power  and  dignity,  yet  in  perfect 
consonance  with  his  good  himiour  and  affectionate 
kindliness.  In  every  company  of  young  people  he  was 
easily  the  life  and  soul  of  the  group.  They  crowded 
around  him  to  revel  in  his  store  of  anecdotes  and  ballads 
k  propos  to  every  occasion,  and  his  jokes  usually  kept 
them  in  a  gale  of  merriment.  He  was  fond  of  every  kind 
of  outdoor  amusement,  especially  of  fishing,  himting, 
and  riding.  Few  could  excel  him  in  horsemanship, 
either  in  skill  or  endurance.  From  the  days  of  his  first 
Shetland  pony  he  had  loved  horses,  and  but  for  his 
ability  to  make  long  journeys  on  horseback  to  remote 
regions  at  a  time  when  there  were  no  railways  and  few 
coach-roads,  he  would  have  been  unable  to  acquire  the 
knowledge  of  places  and  people  which  gave  a  pecuHar 
charm  to  all  his  writings. 

The  day  after  his  admission  to  the  Bar,  Scott  'es- 
caped '  to  the  country,  going  first  to  Rosebank  and  then 
to  Jedburgh,  where  he  met  Robert  Shortreed,  a  sheriff- 
substitute  of  Roxburghshire,  who  consented  to  become 
his  guide  on  a  visit  to  the  wild  and  inaccessible  district 
of  Liddesdale.  For  seven  successive  years  they  made 
these  'raids'  as  Scott  called  them,  'exploring  every 
rivulet  to  its  source  and  every  ruined  peel  from  foimda- 
tion  to  battlement.'  'There  was  no  inn  or  public-house 
of  any  kind  in  the  whole  valley;  the  travellers  passed 
from  the  shepherd's  hut  to  the  minister's  manse,  and 
again  from  the  cheerful  hospitality  of  the  manse  to  the 

H 


THE  'MAKING'  OF  SIR  WALTER 

rough  and  jolly  welcome  of  the  homestead;  gathering, 
wherever  they  went,  songs  and  times,  and  occasionally 
more  tangible  relics  of  antiquity.'  To  his  friendly 
familiarity  with  these  unsophisticated  people  and  the 
intimate  knowledge  thus  acquired  of  their  manner  of 
living,  we  are  indebted  for  some  of  the  most  charming 
pages  of  'Guy  Mannering.'  Whether  the  future  poet 
had  any  plan  in  his  mind  for  using  the  material  so  gath- 
ered is  doubtful,  though  much  of  it  went  into  the 
'Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border'  and  perhaps  these 
raids  suggested  that  undertaking. 

In  the  summer  vacation  of  1797,  Scott  set  out  for  a 
visit  to  the  English  Lakes.  He  was  accompanied  by  his 
brother  John  and  Adam  Ferguson,  an  intimate  friend 
through  whom  he  had  been  introduced  to  the  highest 
literary  circles  of  Edinburgh.  Their  first  stop  was  at  the 
country  home  of  Dr.  Ferguson,  the  distinguished  philos- 
opher and  historian,  and  the  father  of  Scott's  friend. 
This  was  at  Hallyards,  in  the  vale  of  Manor  Water,  near 
Peebles.  The  venerable  old  gentleman,  then  in  his 
seventy-third  year,  had  become  interested  in  one  of  the 
strangest  men,  physically  and  mentally,  who  ever 
lived,  —  a  poor,  ungainly,  and  hideous  dwarf  named 
David  Ritchie.  Dr.  Ferguson  conducted  his  young 
friend  to  the  rude  hut  of  this  horrible  being,  and  Scott, 
strong  and  fearless  as  he  was,  is  said  to  have  come  away 
as  pale  as  ashes  and  shaking  in  every  limb.  This  singular 
meeting  resulted,  nineteen  years  later,  in  the  story  of 
'The  Black  Dwarf,'  where  Scott  skilfully  combined  some 
good  traits,  which  Ritchie  was  known  to  possess,  with 
the  grotesque  and  terrifying  external  figure. 

Proceeding  to  the  English  Lakes,  Scott  now  saw  for  the 

IS 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

first  time  the  wild  and  rugged  beauty  of  Saddleback  and 
Skiddaw  and  the  desolate  loneliness  of  Helvellyn,  con- 
trasting with  the  calm  loveliness  of  Grasmere  and  Win- 
dermere and  with  the  sweet  homeliness  of  the  dalesmen's 
cottages,  their  pastures  and  peaceful  flocks.  Like  all 
other  scenes  of  beauty,  it  made  its  impression  upon  his 
mind.  He  found  a  home  here  for  Colonel  Mannering; 
when  Waverley  was  hard-pressed  after  the  failure  of  the 
insurrection  of  1745,  he  found  it  convenient  to  make  a 
home  for  his  hero  with  a  farmer  at  Ullswater;  and  he 
marched  his  gallant  Baron  of  Triermain  into '  the  narrow 
Valley  of  St.  John'  in  search  of  the  mysterious  castle,  as 
directed  by  the  sage  of  Lyulph's  tower.  The  tower  of 
Lyulph  may  be  seen  near  the  shores  of  Ullswater,  and 
on  the  side  of  a  hill  rising  above  St.  John's  Beck,  a  little 
stream  flowing  out  of  Lake  Thirlmere,  is  a  huge  rock 
now  called  'Triermain  Castle,'  which  at  a  distance,  under 
certain  conditions  of  the  atmosphere,  bears  a  fancied 
resemblance  to  the  phantom  castle  of  the  poem. 

Scott  frequently  showed  his  profound  admiration  for 
the  English  Lake  district,  and  if  he  did  not  love  it  with 
all  the  devotion  of  his  friend  Wordsworth,  it  was  only 
because  his  own  beloved  Highlands  had  a  prior  claim 
upon  his  affections. 

On  a  summer  day  soon  after  his  return  from  the  Lake 
District,  in  the  same  year,  Scott  and  his  friend  Adam 
Ferguson  were  riding  together  along  a  country  road  near 
the  pleasant  little  village  of  Gilsland,  in  the  north  of 
England.  The  former  was  then  twenty-six  years  of  age. 
He  was  a  tall  man  of  athletic  frame,  who  rode  as  though 
incapable  of  fatigue.  There  was  a  peculiar  grace  and 
charm  in  both  face  and  figure,  which  almost  irresistibly 

16 


THE  'MAKING'  OF  SIR  WALTER 

caused  a  passer-by  to  follow  his  first  glance  with  a  second 
and  longer  scrutiny. 

As  they  rode  along,  the  two  companions  chanced  to 
pass  a  young  lady,  also  on  horseback,  who  immediately 
attracted  their  notice.  Her  form  was  like  that  of  a  fairy, 
light  and  full  of  grace.  Her  long  silken  tresses  were  jet 
black,  her  complexion  a  clear  ohve,  and  her  eyes  a  lovely 
brown,  large,  deep-set,  and  brilliant.  Young  and  viva- 
cious, with  a  natural  air  of  gaiety,  she  was  both  pleasant 
to  meet  and  charming  to  look  upon. 

At  the  ball  which  took  place  in  the  evening  there  was 
much  rivalry  among  the  young  men  for  the  honour  of 
dancing  with  this  vision  of  lovehness,  who  had  blotted 
out  all  other  thoughts  from  their  morning  ride.  To  the 
tall  young  man  fell  the  privilege  of  taking  the  fair 
stranger  to  supper,  and  this  was  the  introduction  of 
Walter  Scott  to  Miss  Charlotte  Margaret  Carpenter. 
The  evening  of  September  30,  immediately  following  the 
ball,  was  one  of  the  happiest  Scott  ever  knew.  A  friend 
records  that  he  'was  sair  beside  himself  about  Miss 
Carpenter;  —  we  toasted  her  twenty  times  over  —  and 
sat  together,  he  raving  about  her  until  it  was  one  in  the 
morning.' 

This  was  not  Scott's  first  love  affair,  but  it  was  equally 
genuine.  Some  four  years  previously  he  had  chanced  to 
meet  at  the  Greyfriars  Church  in  Edinburgh,  a  very 
charming  young  lady  of  seventeen.  As  the  Sunday  ser- 
vice closed,  an  unexpected  shower  came  up.  Scott  had 
an  umbrella  and  the  lady  had  none  —  sufficient  reason 
for  escorting  the  fair  one  to  her  home.  There  was  also 
sufficient  reason  for  falling  in  love  with  her,  for  Miss 
Wilhamina  Stuart  was  not  only  beautiful  in  face  and 

17 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

figure,  but  lovely  in  character.  Highly  educated,  accom- 
phshed  in  music  and  painting,  well  versed  in  literature, 
and  with  the  best  family  connections,  she  was  still  a 
sweet  girl,  of  charming  manners  and  no  affectation.  For 
three  years  Scott  cherished  the  most  ardent  feelings  of 
love,  but  in  silence.  He  was  then  a  young  man  of  small 
worldly  prospects.  He  had  written  nothing  and  was 
unknown  outside  the  circle  of  friends  in  the  law  courts, 
where  he  was  but  a  beginner.  This,  however,  would  not 
have  been  an  insurmountable  difficulty  had  the  love 
been  mutual.  But  the  yoimg  lady  had  already  given 
her  heart  unreservedly  to  an  intimate  friend  of  Scott's, 
William  Forbes,  a  man  of  noble  character.  She  gave 
Scott  no  encouragement,  but  frequently  wrote  him  in 
a  friendly  way,  chiefly  concerning  Uterary  topics. 
After  many  months  of  patient  restraint,  Scott  finally 
wrote  her  a  frank  and  unreserved  declaration  of  his 
feelings,  and  received  in  reply  a  letter  which  filled  him 
with  many  forebodings  but  with  '  new  admiration  of  her 
generosity  and  candour.'  She  urged  upon  him  the  con- 
tinuation of  their  simple  friendship  as  the  'prudent  line 
of  conduct.'  Unfortunately,  Scott  read  between  the 
lines,  as  too  hopeful  persons  sometimes  do,  sentiments 
which  were  not  intended.  The  final  disappointment 
came  in  the  autumn  of  1796,  and  in  the  following  Jan- 
uary Miss  Stuart  became  the  bride  of  Walter  Scott's 
successful  rival.  It  is  pleasant  to  think  that  the  success 
of  the  one  and  the  disappointment  of  the  other  led  to  no 
bitterness.  Both  were  men  of  noble  and  generous  minds. 
And  in  the  days  of  Scott's  adversity,  when  he  was  wear- 
ing away  his  vitality  in  a  desperate  but  honourable 
endeavour  to  pay  his  debts.  Sir  William  Forbes,  though 

18 


THE  'MAKING'  OF  SIR  WALTER 

his  own  bank  was  one  of  the  heavy  losers  in  the  disaster 
that  overwhelmed  Scott,  came  forward  with  offers  of 
assistance,  and  even  went  so  far  as  to  pay  secretly  a 
large  and  pressing  debt,  that  his  friend  Sir  Walter  might 
not  be  entirely  crushed. 

The  poet  never  forgot  the  tender  experiences  of 
these  years,  and  long  afterward  drew  a  lovely  picture 
of  Williamina  in  'Rokeby':  — 

Wreathed  in  its  dark  brown  rings,  her  hair 
Half  hid  Matilda's  forehead  fair, 
Half  hid  and  half  revealed  to  view 
Her  full  dark  eye  of  hazel  hue. 
The  rose,  with  faint  and  feeble  streak, 
So  lightly  tinged  the  maiden's  cheek, 
That  you  had  said  her  hue  was  pale: 
But  if  she  faced  the  summer  gale, 
Or  spoke,  or  sung,  or  quicker  moved, 
Or  heard  the  praise  of  those  she  loved, 
The  mantling  blood  in  ready  play 
Rivalled  the  blush  of  rising  day. 

But  Walter  Scott  was  a  young  man,  and  in  his  great 
big  heart  there  was  still  room  for  love.  If  he  thought  his 
heart  was  broken,  he  admitted  that  it  was  '  handsomely 
pieced '  again.  Fascinated  with  the  vivacity  and  attrac- 
tiveness of  Miss  Carpenter,  Scott  remained  at  Gilsland 
much  longer  than  he  had  intended.  The  lovers  strolled 
through  many  delightful  paths  —  walks  which  left  their 
impress  upon  the  poet's  mind  and  gave  him  many  back- 
grounds for  his  future  verses  and  tales. 

Miss  Carpenter  had  rooms  at  a  large  hotel,  known  as 
Shaw's,  where  the  momentous  ball  was  held,  and  Scott 
was  at  Wardrew  House,  a  private  residence  with  a 
picturesque  walled-in  garden  on  the  slope  of  a  hill  not 
far  away.   We  followed  them  in  fancy  as  they  descended 

19 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

into  the  glen  which  separates  these  two  houses,  where 
they  might  drink  of  the  mineral  spring  which  gives  a 
local  fame  to  the  place.  Then  like  the  faithful  page  of 
the  Baron  of  Triermain,  no  doubt  they  'crossed  green 
Irthing's  Mead '  and  wandering  along  the  shady  bank  of 
this  pleasant  stream,  reached 

the  favourite  glade, 
Paled  in  by  copsewood,  cliff  and  stone, 

Where  never  harsher  sounds  invade 
To  break  affection's  whispering  tone 

Than  the  deep  breeze  that  waves  the  shade, 
Than  the  smaU  brooklet's  feeble  moan. 

Then,  turning  a  bend  in  the  stream,  perchance  he  in- 
vited her  to 

Come!  rest  thee  on  thy  wonted  seat; 

Mossed  is  the  stone,  the  turf  is  green, 
A  place  where  lovers  best  may  meet 

Who  would  not  that  their  love  be  seen. 

Here  is  the  so-called  'Popping  Stone,'  where,  local  tradi- 
tion asserts,  Scott  asked  the  all-important  question. 
Whether  this  is  true  or  not  makes  no  difference.  The 
question  was  asked  and  the  stone  is  there.  Whatever 
virtue  there  may  be  in  the  stone,  it  is  certain  that  thou- 
sands of  young  couples  have  found  their  way  thither, 
and  they  have  literally  worn  it  away  until  now  it  is 
scarcely  half  its  original  size. 

A  little  farther  west  we  came  to  the  beautiful  old 
ruins  of  Lanercost,  in  which  is  the  tomb  of  Thomas,  Lord 
Dacre,  to  whom  Marmion,  with  his  last  dying  gasp  on 
the  field  of  Flodden,  sent  a  message  with  his  signet  ring. 
Near  by  and  entered  through  a  beautiful  park  is  the  fine 
old  feudal  castle  of  Naworth,  the  stronghold  of  the 

30 


THE  'MAKING'  OF  SIR  WALTER 

Dacres  and  later  of  the  Howards,  both  of  whom  are 
mentioned  in  'The  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel.' 

The  place  which  seems  to  have  interested  Scott  the 
most  in  these  rambles  was  the  old  mined  wall  of  Trier- 
main  Castle.  He  saw  more  of  it  than  can  be  seen  to-day, 
for  a  great  part  of  it  remained  standing  until  1832,  But 
it  was  a  ruin  in  the  time  of  Queen  EHzabeth.  Scott's 
imagination,  however,  soon  rebuilt  and  repeopled  it,  and 
Sir  Ronald  de  Vaux  became  immortalized  in  'The 
Bridal  of  Triermain,'  though  forgotten  in  the  pages  of 
history.  In  almost  the  latest  years  of  his  life,  the  novel- 
ist came  back  to  these  scenes  of  his  early  manhood  for 
another  character  whom  he  took  from  the  same  old 
castle  of  Triermain,  the  big  and  burly,  but  always 
faithful,  Sir  Thomas  de  Multon  of  'The  TaHsman.' 

During  the  autumn  of  1797,  Scott  was  a  frequent  visi- 
tor to  the  city  of  Carlisle,  where  Miss  Carpenter  was 
living  in  Castle  Street.  A  few  steps  beyond  the  site  of 
her  house  is  Carlisle  Cathedral,  the  most  striking  fea- 
ture of  which  is  the  beautiful  East  Window,  said  to  be 
the  finest  in  England.  The  cathedral  was  founded  by 
Henry  I  in  iioi.  During  the  Civil  War  it  was  occupied 
by  soldiers,  who  pulled  down  ninety-six  feet  of  the  nave 
to  build  fortifications.  The  portion  that  remained,  thirty- 
nine  feet,  was  later  enclosed  and  used  as  the  parish 
Church  of  St.  Mary.  Here,  standing  between  two  great 
Norman  pillars  of  red  sandstone,  on  the  day  before 
Christmas,  1797,  Walter  Scott  and  Charlotte  Carpenter 
were  married. 

They  went  to  live  in  Edinburgh,  but  during  the  fol- 
lowing summer  took  up  their  abode  in  a  charming  little 
cottage  with  a  thatched  roof  and  a  delightful  garden  on 

21 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

the  banks  of  the  river  Esk  at  Lasswade.  It  was  then  a 
small  house  with  only  one  room  of  fair  size,  though  now 
very  much  enlarged.  The  thatched  portion,  however,  is 
carefully  preserved.  Mrs.  Scott's  good  taste  and  her 
husband's  enthusiasm  soon  converted  the  house  and 
grounds  into  a  veritable  bower  of  deUght.  Unfortun- 
ately, the  rustic  archway  of  ivy,  which  Scott  took  so 
much  pleasure  in  fashioning,  has  disappeared.  But  the 
vale  of  the  Esk  still  remains,  to  thrill  the  souls  of  the 
romantic.  Not  even  in  lovely  Scotland  is  there  a  river 
or  glen  to  surpass  it.  Deep  down  between  precipitous 
cliffs  and  rocks,  shaded  by  tall  trees  and  overgrown  by  a 
bewildering  profusion  of  creeping  plants  and  overhang- 
ing vines,  the  httle  river  flows  merrily  along,  seeming  to 
sparkle  at  every  bend  with  some  new  recollection  of  the 
romantic  legends  or  fantastic  tales  of  the  barons  of  old, 
who  once  peopled  its  ancient  castles  and  drank  their 
wine  while  they  listened  to  the  rhythmic  stories  of  the 
minstrel  bards.  Here  six  happy  summers  were  spent. 
Friends  came  down  from  Edinburgh  and  new  friendships 
were  formed  with  important  personages  living  in  the 
villas  and  castles  of  the  vicinity.  All  found  that  Scott 
had  formed  a  connection  with  one  who  had  the  *  sterling 
qualities  of  a  good  wife,'  to  quote  Lockhart's  phrase. 
The  brothers  of  the  Mountain  —  a  group  of  boon  com- 
panions who  were  closely  associated  and  very  fond  of 
each  other's  society  —  welcomed  Mrs.  Scott  with  the 
greatest  delight.  A  married  Ufe  of  perfect  serenity  was 
inaugurated,  which  lasted  imtil  the  death  of  'the  ever 
faithful  and  true  companion'  in  1826. 

In  a  confidential  letter  to  Lady  Abercom,  written  in 
1810,  Scott  refers  to  his  attempt,  in  the  *Lady  of  the 

32 


THE  'MAKING'  OF  SIR  WALTER 

Lake,'  to  make  *  a  knight  of  love  who  never  broke  a  vow, 
and  mentions  his  own  melancholy  experience  of  early 
days.  He  adds:  'Mrs.  Scott's  match  and  mine  was  one 
of  our  own  making,  and  proceeded  from  the  most  sincere 
afifection  on  both  sides,  which  has  rather  increased  than 
diminished  during  twelve  years'  marriage.  But  it  was 
something  short  of  love  in  all  its  forms,  which  I  suspect 
people  only  feel  once  in  their  lives;  folks  who  have  been 
nearly  drowned  in  bathing  rarely  venturing  a  second 
time  out  of  their  depth.' 

These  words  should  not  be  misconstrued.  Whatever 
the  ardency  of  his  first  love,  the  second  was  no  less  sin- 
cere and  true.  If  the  first  was  the  highly  poetic  t57pe,  the 
young  dream  of  a  peculiarly  sensitive  nature,  the  second 
was  the  kind  that  enables  young  couples  to  meet  in 
peace  and  serenity  all  the  varied  problems  of  life,  to 
establish  their  housekeeping  in  mutual  helpfulness,  to 
laugh  away  their  cares,  as  Scott  wrote  to  Miss  Carpen- 
ter, or  if  the  load  is  too  heavy,  to  share  it  between  them, 
'until  it  becomes  almost  as  light  as  pleasure  itself.'  It 
was  in  this  spirit  that  the  young  people  established  their 
household  gods  in  the  cottage  at  Lasswade. 

To  a  man  of  Scott's  disposition,  happy  in  his  new 
home  life,  with  every  incentive  to  improve  his  oppor- 
tunities, his  mind  steeped  from  infancy  in  the  rude  bal- 
lads of  the  border  country  and  his  heart  bounding  with 
delight  at  the  beauties  of  nature,  this  new  environment 
seemed  all  that  was  needed  to  turn  his  whole  thought  to 

poetry. 

Sweet  are  the  paths,  0  passing  sweet! 

By  Esk's  fair  streams  that  run 
O'er  airy  steep  through  copsewood  deep 

Impervious  to  the  sun. 

23 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

There  the  rapt  poet's  step  may  rove, 

And  yield  the  muse  the  day; 
There  Beauty,  led  by  timid  Love 

May  shun  the  telltale  ray. 

No  afternoon  stroll  could  be  more  delightful  than  one 
through  the  valley  of  the  Esk  as  far  as  Roslin.  Many  go 
to  Roslin  by  coach  from  Edinburgh,  but  they  fail  to  see 
the  glen.  Guided  by  a  Scottish  friend,  we  found  that  the 
better  way  is  to  go  to  Hawthornden  and  walk  through 
the  gardens  and  grounds  of  the  ancient  castle  where  the 
poet  Drummond  lived  and  wrote  to  his  heart's  content 
of  the  beauties  of  the  scene.  Here  we  saw  the  caves,  cut 
out  of  the  sohd  rock  beneath  the  castle,  which  sheltered 
Robert  Bruce  during  the  troublous  times  when  Fortune 
seemed  to  frown.  Here,  too,  we  stood  tmder  the  syca- 
more tree  where  Drummond  welcomed  Ben  Jonson  to  his 
home.  Descending  the  path  to  the  river,  we  crossed  by 
a  little  wooden  bridge,  with  a  gate  in  the  middle,  which 
can  be  opened  only  from  the  Hawthornden  side.  Then 
a  walk,  which  was  half  scramble,  brought  us  finally  to 
Roslin  Castle,  on  a  rock  peeping  over  the  foliage,  high 
above  the  river.  Both  Roslin  and  Hawthornden  are 
mentioned  in  'The  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel*  in  the  bal- 
lad of  the  lovely  Rosabelle:  — 

O'er  Roslin  all  that  dreary  night 
A  wondrous  blaze  was  seen  to  gleam; 

'T  was  broader  than  the  watch-fire  light, 
And  redder  than  the  bright  moonbeam. 

It  glared  on  Roslin's  castled  rock, 

It  ruddied  all  the  copsewood  glen; 
*T  was  seen  from  Dreyden's  groves  of  oak, 

And  seen  from  caverned  Hawthornden. 

24 


THE  'MAKING'  OF  SIR  WALTER 

The  quiet  of  Lasswade  gave  Scott  the  opportunity  for 
the  compilation  of  the  '  Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Bor- 
der,' and  its  romantic  beauty  furnished  the  inspiration 
for  his  first  serious  attempts  to  write  new  ballads  in 
imitation  of  the  old  ones.  '  It  was  amidst  these  delicious 
solitudes/  says  Lockhart,  'that  he  produced  the  pieces 
which  laid  the  imperishable  foundations  of  all  his  fame. 
It  was  here  that  when  his  warm  heart  was  beating  with 
young  and  happy  love,  and  his  whole  mind  and  spirit 
were  nerved  with  new  motives  for  exertion  —  it  was 
here  in  the  ripened  glow  of  manhood  he  seems  to  have 
first  felt  something  of  his  real  strength,  and  found  him- 
self out  in  those  splendid  original  ballads  which  were  at 
once  to  fix  his  name.' 

At  this  period  Scott  was  a  man  of  unusually  robust 
health.  In  spite  of  the  lameness  with  which  he  had  been 
afficted  from  infancy,  his  powers  of  endurance  were 
very  great.  He  could  walk  thirty  miles  a  day  or  ride  one 
himdred  without  resting.  He  was  quartermaster  of  the 
Edinburgh  Volunteers  and  had  a  great  reputation  as  a 
skilful  horseman.  *He  had  a  remarkably  firm  seat  on 
horseback,'  said  Mr.  Skene,  'and  in  all  situations  a  fear- 
less one :  no  fatigue  ever  seemed  too  much  for  him,  and 
his  zeal  and  animation  served  to  sustain  the  enthusiasm 
of  the  whole  corps.'  His  companions  called  him  'Earl 
Walter,'  and  whenever  there  came,  at  drills,  a  moment 
of  rest,  all  turned  intuitively  to  the  quartermaster, 
whose  ever  ready  fun  never  failed  to  Ughten  the  burdens 
of  the  day.  It  was  really  this  remarkable  gift  of  good 
companionship,  coupled  with  his  fondness  for  horses 
and  unusual  powers  of  endurance,  that  enabled  Scott 
to  gather  the  materials  for  his  poems. 

25 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

*Eh  me,'  said  Shortreed,  his  companion  and  guide  in 
the  Liddesdale  raids,  *sic  an  endless  fimd  o'  humour  and 
drollery  as  he  then  had  wi'  him !  Never  ten  yards  but  we 
were  either  laughing  or  roaring  or  singing.  Wherever 
we  stopped,  how  brawlie  he  suited  himsel'  to  everybody! 
He  aye  did  as  the  lave  did;  never  made  himsel'  the  great 
man,  or  took  ony  airs  in  the  company.'  It  was  literally 
true,  as  he  said,  that  he  'had  a  home  in  every  farm- 
house.' 

To  his  rare  good  fellowship  and  his  powers  of  endur- 
ance, Scott  added  one  other  quality  without  which  his 
vigorous  search  for  hterary  material  might  have  been  of 
little  use,  namely,  a  most  extraordinary  memory,  which 
enabled  him  to  retain  what  he  had  heard  and  use  it 
many  years  afterward.  James  Hogg,  the  eccentric 
Ettrick  shepherd,  gives  a  fine  instance  of  this  power. 
One  night  Scott,  with  his  friends,  Hogg  and  Skene,  was 
out  on  a  fishing  expedition.  'While  we  three  sat  down 
on  the  brink  of  a  river,'  says  Hogg,  'Scott  desired  me  to 
sing  them  my  ballad  of  Oilman's  Cleugh.  Now  be  it 
remembered  that  this  ballad  had  never  been  printed:  I 
had  merely  composed  it  by  rote,  and,  on  finishing  it 
three  years  before,  had  sung  it  over  once  to  Sir  Walter. 
I  began  it,  at  his  request,  but  at  the  eighth  or  ninth 
stanza  I  stuck  in  it  and  could  not  get  on  with  another 
verse,  on  which  he  began  it  again  and  recited  it  every 
word  from  beginning  to  end.  It  being  a  very  long  bal- 
lad, consisting  of  eighty-eight  stanzas,  I  testified  my 
astonishment,  knowing  that  he  had  never  heard  it  but 
once,  and  even  then  did  not  appear  to  be  paying  particu- 
lar attention.  He  said  he  had  been  out  with  a  pleasure 
party  as  far  as  the  opening  of  the  Firth  of  Forth,  and, 

a6 


THE  'MAKING'  OF  SIR  WALTER 

to  amuse  the  company,  he  had  recited  both  that  ballad 
and  one  of  Southey's  ("The  Abbot  of  Aberbrothock"), 
both  of  which  ballads  he  had  only  heard  once  from  their 
respective  authors,  and  he  believed  he  recited  them  both 
without  misplacing  a  word.' 

Living  in  a  country  where  new  beauty  appears  at 
every  turn  in  the  road  and  romance  is  echoed  from  every 
hillside,  happy  in  his  domestic  relations,  blessed  with 
the  faculty  of  making  friends  wherever  he  went,  whether 
among  farmers  and  shepherds  or  lords  and  ladies,  active 
in  travelling  into  every  nook  or  comer  where  material 
could  be  found,  keen  to  appreciate  a  good  story  or  a 
pleasing  ballad,  and  able  to  remember  all  he  ever  heard 
or  read,  Walter  Scott  became  a  poet  as  easily  and 
naturally  as  the  rippling  waters  of  his  beloved  Tweed 
find  their  way  to  the  sea. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL 

The  years  at  Lasswade  were  marked  by  one  of  the  most 
momentous  decisions  of  Scott's  life.  He  had  reached  the 
parting  of  the  ways;  one  leading  to  the  practice  of  the 
law;  the  other  —  and  the  more  alluring  one  —  to  hter- 
ature  as  a  profession.  Had  his  father  been  alive,  it  is 
probable  that  a  high  sense  of  duty  and  loyalty  would 
have  determined  him  to  continue  in  the  law,  for  the  old 
gentleman  had  set  his  heart  upon  that,  and  Scott  would 
have  submitted  to  almost  any  irksome  requirement 
rather  than  woimd  the  feelings  of  his  parent.  But  the 
worthy  barrister's  death  a  year  or  two  after  his  son's 
marriage  had  put  an  end  to  any  scruples  on  his  accoimt. 
Although  Scott  had  not  made  a  failure,  his  success  at  the 
Bar  was  not  remarkable.  In  the  year  preceding  his 
marriage  and  the  fifth  year  of  his  practice,  his  fee-book 
showed  an  income  of  only  one  hundred  forty-four 
pounds,  ten  shillings.  He  never  had  any  fondness  for.  the 
law.  As  he  afterwards  expressed  it : '  My  profession  and 
I  came  to  stand  nearly  upon  the  footing  which  honest 
Slender  consoled  himself  on  having  estabUshed  with 
Mistress  Anne  Page:  "There  was  no  great  love  between 
us  at  the  beginning  and  it  pleased  Heaven  to  decrease  it 
on  farther  acquaintance."'  He  began  to  realize  that 
*  the  Scottish  Themis  was  peculiarly  jealous  of  any  flirta- 
tion with  the  Muses,'  and  that  a  yoimg  lawyer  could  not 
expect  to  succeed  unless  he  kept  up  the  appearance  of 

38 


THE  LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL 

being  busy  even  when  he  had  nothing  to  do.  A  barrister 
who  spent  his  time  '  running  after  ballads '  was  not  to  be 
trusted.  To  succeed  in  the  law  meant,  therefore,  a  fare- 
well to  literature.  It  meant  other  sacrifices,  too.  His 
vigorous  health  at  this  period  enabled  him  to  indulge  a 
natural  fondness  for  country  sports,  horseback  riding, 
hunting,  fishing,  and  the  like.  His  membership  in  the 
Edinburgh  Volunteers  gave  him  a  most  agreeable  com- 
panionship with  a  fine  class  of  men,  among  whom  he  was 
extremely  popular  and  with  whom  he  spent  some  of  the 
happiest  hours  of  his  life.  All  this  would  have  to  be 
given  up  if  he  continued  at  the  Bar,  and  instead  he 
would  feel  obliged  to  tie  himself  down  to  a  severe  course 
of  study  in  some  musty  old  office  in  Edinburgh. 

Two  circumstances  combined  to  make  feasible  the 
more  attractive  path.  The  first  was  Scott's  appointment 
as  Sheriff  of  Selkirk  with  an  income  of  three  hundred 
pounds  a  year,  which  gave  him  a  certain  degree  of  inde- 
pendence, while  the  duties  were  not  onerous.  The  sec- 
ond was  the  success  of  the  'Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish 
Border.'  For  several  years  Scott  had  travelled  extens- 
ively through  many  remote  nooks  and  corners  in  search 
of  material  for  this  compilation,  and  its  publication  had 
brought  him  into  public  notice  as  a  man  of  no  small  lit- 
erary skill.  His  gratification  with  its  success  may  be 
judged  from  a  letter  to  his  brother-in-law,  Charles 
Carpenter,  in  1803 :  — 

I  have  continued  to  turn  a  very  slender  portion  of  literary 
talents  to  some  account  by  a  publication  of  the  poetical  anti- 
quities of  the  Border,  where  the  old  people  had  preserved 
many  ballads  descriptive  of  the  manners  of  the  country 
during  the  wars  with  England.  This  trifling  collection  was 

29 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

so  well  received  by  a  discerning  public,  that,  after  receiving 
about  £ioo  profit  for  the  first  edition,  which  my  vanity 
cannot  omit  informing  you  went  off  in  six  months,  I  have 
sold  the  copyright  for  £500  more. 

This  enterprise,  paying  as  much  as  the  entire  proceeds 
of  Scott's  first  five  years  of  legal  effort,  gave  assurance 
of  a  fiinancial  success  in  literature,  which  coupled  with  a 
certain  income  as  Sheriff  seemed  to  make  the  future 
fairly  secure.  Reasoning  in  this  way,  Scott  finally 
reached  his  decision  to  abandon  the  law  and  devote  his 
life  to  literature. 

'The  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel'  was  the  immediate 
result.  Scott  felt  the  responsibility  of  his  position.  He 
was  now  the  head  of  a  family,  having  a  wife  and  three 
children  of  whom  he  might  well  be  proud,  and  he  felt 
impelled  to  make  a  financial  as  well  as  literary  success  of 
his  chosen  profession.  He  had  previously  tried  his  hand 
at  original  composition.  Inspired  perhaps  by  his  famil- 
iarity with  the  old  Scottish  ballads,  he  had  essayed  some- 
thing of  the  same  character.  The  first  of  these  produc- 
tions was  '  Glenfiinlas,'  growing  out  of  his  early  visits  to 
the  Highlands.  Glenfinlas  is  a  forest  in  Perthshire, 
north  of  the  Trossachs  and  east  of  Loch  Katrine.  Next 
came  'The  Eve  of  St.  John,'  in  which  Scott  rebuilt  and 
repeopled  the  old  tower  of  Smailholm  which  had  so 
fascinated  his  boyish  fancy.  In  'The  Gray  Brother,'  an 
incomplete  ballad  of  this  period,  the  poet  sang  the 
praises  of  the  vale  of  the  Esk,  then  the  scene  of  his  al- 
most daily  walks.  The  fourth  of  these  early  poems  was 
'Cadyow  Castle,'  a  ballad  on  the  assassination  of  the 
Regent  Murray.  Cadyow  Castle  is  a  very  dilapidated 
old  ruin  in  a  park  of  wondrous  beauty  near  Hamilton, 

30 


x>0 


Loiig:itudc  West 


of  Greenwich 


THE  LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL 

southeast  of  Glasgow.  There  is  a  deep  glen,  through 
which  runs  a  little  river,  the  Avon,  and  on  the  banks  are 
many  tall  and  beautiful  trees.  The  park  was  once  a  part 
of  the  old  Caledonian  forest,  a  few  of  the  ancient  oaks  of 
which  still  remain  standing.  It  was  the  habitation  of  the 
fierce  wild  cattle  which  furnished  the  liveliest  and  most 
dangerous  sport  whenever  a  hunt  was  arranged.  Some- 
thing of  the  spirit  and  fire  of  Scott's  later  work  is  seen  in 
these  lines :  — 

Mightiest  of  all  the  beasts  of  chase 

That  roam  in  woody  Caledon, 
Crashing  the  forest  in  his  race, 

The  Mountain  Bull  comes  thundering  on. 

Fierce  on  the  himter's  quivered  band 

He  rolls  his  eyes  of  swarthy  glow, 
Spurns,  with  black  hoof  and  horn,  the  sand 

And  tosses  high  his  mane  of  snow. 

The  man  who  could  write  such  lines  as  these  must  have 
felt  an  instinct  for  poetry  which  no  amount  of  reasoning 
could  ever  set  aside.  It  was,  therefore,  well  that  Scott 
did  not  attempt  to  resist  his  natural  inclinations. 

We  find  him,  then,  deliberately  turning  to  poetry,  and 
carefully  surveying  the  field  to  choose  his  first  subject. 
Three  influences,  widely  different  in  character,  combined 
to  solve  this  problem.  The  first  was  his  interest  in  the 
stories  of  Border  warfare  aroused  by  the  tales  of  his 
childhood  and  immensely  stimulated  by  his  thorough 
search  for  ballads  to  make  up  the  'Border  Minstrelsy.' 
The  second  was  his  membership  in  the  Edinburgh  Vol- 
unteers which  gave  a  miHtary  trend  to  his  thoughts. 
The  third  was  his  desire  to  oblige  a  lady.  The  young 
Countess  of  Dalkeith,  afterward  Duchess  of  Buccleuch, 

31 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

was  an  intellectual  woman  of  extreme  beauty  and  lovely 
character.  She  was,  moreover,  the  wife  of  the  chief  of 
the  clan  of  Scott,  and  therefore  entitled,  in  the  poet's 
view  at  least,  to  the  fealty  of  her  kinsmen.  Having 
heard  the  legend  of  Gilpin  Homer,  a  gobUn  dwarf 
in  whom  most  of  the  people  impUcitly  believed,  the 
Coxmtess,  much  delighted  with  the  story,  enjoined 
upon  Scott  the  task  of  composing  a  ballad  on  the  sub- 
ject. The  slightest  wish  of  one  so  beloved  was  a  com- 
mand. 

The  poet  soon  realized  that  the  goblin  was  likely  to 
prove  a  veritable  imp  of  mischief,  threatening  to  ruin  his 
ballad,  and  before  the  poem  was  finished,  relegated  him 
to  the  kitchen  where  he  properly  belonged.  With  the 
gobUn  story  reduced  to  a  mere  incident,  the  poem  ex- 
panded to  a  tale  of  Border  warfare  in  which  all  of  Scott's 
military  spirit  and  knowledge  of  history  and  legend 
came  to  the  front.  He  wrote  it,  as  he  declared  in  a  letter 
to  Wordsworth,  to  discharge  his  mind  of  the  ideas  which 
from  infancy  had  rushed  upon  it.  In  a  letter  to  George 
Ellis  in  1802,  he  refers  to  it  as  a  'kind  of  romance  of 
Border  chivalry  in  a  light-horseman  sort  of  stanza.' 
In  the  autumn  of  that  year,  while  on  duty  with  his  troop 
at  Musselburgh,  during  a  charge  on  Portobello  sands,  he 
received  a  kick  from  his  horse  which  confined  him  to  his 
rooms  for  three  days.  This  accident  gave  an  unexpected 
opp>ortimity,  and  in  these  three  days  the  actual  writing 
of  the  poem  was  started  and  the  whole  of  the  first  canto 
completed  except  the  introductory  framework.  It  is  easy 
to  recognize  the  'light-horseman'  stanza.  Indeed,  the 
clatter  of  horses'  hoofs  is  heard  distinctly  as  Sir  William 
of  Deloraine  sets  forth  upon  his  night  ride  to  Melrose :  — 

32 


THE  LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL 

*0  swiftly  can  speed  my  dapple-grey  steed 

Which  drinks  of  the  Teviot  clear; 
Ere  break  of  day,'  the  warrior  'gan  say, 

'Again  will  I  be  here: 
And  safer  by  none  may  thy  errand  be  done 

Than,  noble  dame,  by  me!' 

Soon  in  his  saddle  sate  he  fast. 
And  soon  the  steep  descent  he  passed, 
Soon  crossed  the  soimding  barbican, 
And  soon  the  Teviot  side  he  won. 

And  soon  he  spurred  his  courser  keen 

Beneath  the  tower  of  Hazeldean. 

The  clattering  hoofs  the  watchmen  mark: 
'Stand  ho!  thou  courier  of  the  dark!' 
'For  Branksome,  ho!'  the  knight  rejoined. 

And  left  the  friendly  tower  behind. 

The  spirited  ride  to  Melrose;  the  opening  of  the  wizard's 
grave;  the  delightful  picture  of  the  ruined  abbey;  the 
meeting  of  Lady  Margaret  and  Lord  Cranstoun;  the 
telling  encounter  of  the  latter  with  the  Knight  of  Delo- 
raine;  the  manly  spirit  of  the  young  heir  of  Branksome; 
the  tales  of  Watt  Tinlinn  and  the  Scotts  of  Thirlstane,  of 
Harden  and  of  Eskdale,  the  coming  of  the  Englishmen, 
Belted  Will  Howard  and  Lord  Dacre,  the  duel  resulting 
in  the  death  of  Richard  of  Musgrave,  and  the  triumph 
of  Cranstoun's  love  for  the  fair  Margaret,  all  combine  to 
produce  a  vivid  impression  of  the  stirring  events,  the 
conditions  of  hfe,  and  the  ideals  of  the  Border  country  in 
the  days  of  chivalry. 

The  framework  of  this  picture,  from  which  it  takes  its 
name,  is  generally  considered  the  most  beautiful  part  of 
the  poem.  The  old  minstrel  is  supposed  to  relate  the 
tale,  with  the  accompaniment  of  his  harp,  to  the  noble 

33 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

Duchess  of  Buccleuch.  The  minstrel,  with  his  reverence 
and  enthusiasm  for  the  old  ballad  p>oetry ,  now  in  its  deca- 
dence, is  of  course  the  poet  himself  and  the  Duchess  is 
his  patron,  who  first  suggested  the  poem.  In  no  more 
beautiful  and  delicate  way  could  the  poet  have  shown 
his  devotion  to  the  lord  and  lady  who  had  so  greatly 
inspired  him.  Moreover,  it  gave  him  the  method  of 
showing,  as  he  said,  that  he  had  no  intention  of  setting 
up  a  new  school  of  poetry,  but  was  only  making  *  a  feeble 
attempt  to  imitate  the  old.'  The  historical  basis  of  the 
poem  is  told  in  a  letter  to  Lady  Dalkeith:  — 

Dame  Janet  Beatoun,  Lady  Buccleuch,  who  flourished 
in  Queen  Mary's  time,  was  a  woman  of  high  spirit  and  great 
talents.  According  to  the  superstition  of  the  times,  the  vul- 
gar imputed  her  extraordinary  abilities  to  supernatural 
knowledge.  If  Lady  Dalkeith  will  look  into  the  Introduction 
to  the  'Border  Ballads,'  pages  xv  and  xxix,  she  will  find 
some  accounts  of  a  deadly  feud  betwixt  the  clans  of  Scott 
and  Kerr,  which,  among  other  outrages,  occasioned  the 
death  of  Sir  Walter  Scott  of  Buccleuch,  the  husband  of 
Janet  Beatoun,  who  was  slain  by  the  Kerrs  in  the  streets  of 
Edinburgh.  The  lady  resented  the  death  of  her  husband  by 
many  exploits  against  the  Kerrs  and  their  allies.  In  particu- 
lar the  Laird  of  Cranstoun  fell  imder  her  displeasure,  and 
she  herself  headed  a  party  of  three  hundred  horse  with  the 
intention  of  surprising  and  killing  that  baron  in  the  chapel 
of  St.  Mary,  beside  St.  Mary's  Loch  at  the  head  of  Yarrow. 
The  Baron  escaped,  but  the  lady  burned  the  chapel  and  slew 
many  of  the  attendants.  .  .  .  The  feud  was  finally  ended  by 
Cranstoun  marrying  the  lady's  daughter. 

About  this  fragment  of  history  Scott  wove  his  stirring 
tale  of  the  Scottish  lowlands  in  the  sixteenth  century. 

The  last  of  all  the  bards  was  he 
Who  sung  of  Border  chivalry. 

34 


'•t^^v*   .i^^f^-'--' '           '* 

\:m^ 

^L^                                         ^^^^^1 

^^1 

¥ 

«•• 

^^              ^^K::,'^^^^fc: 

THE  LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL 

The  aged  minstrel  is  introduced  as  he  passes 

where  Newark's  stately  tower 
Looks  out  from  Yarrow's  birchen  bower. 

The  old  ruin  was  a  favourite  resort  for  Scott,  and  many  a 
happy  holiday  excursion  was  made  to  those  *  rich  groves 
of  lofty  stature'  which  Wordsworth  celebrated  in  his 
'Yarrow  Visited.'  The  ancient  tower  stands  on  high 
groimd  above  the  Yarrow,  on  a  road  leading  westward 
from  Selkirk,  over  which  Scott  often  walked  or  rode. 
About  two  miles  away  is  Bowhill,  a  country-seat  of  the 
Duke  of  Buccleuch,  where  the  poet  was  always  a  wel- 
come guest.  He  refers  to  it  affectionately  in  the  closing 
stanza  of  the  'Lay':  — 

When  summer  smiled  on  sweet  Bowhill. 

Still  farther  south  is  Oakwood  Tower,  a  stronghold  of  the 
celebrated  Wat  of  Harden,  one  of  the  poet's  ancestors. 

Wide  lay  his  lands  roimd  Oakwood  Tower 
And  wide  roimd  haunted  Castle-Ower. 

This  was  'Auld  Wat,'  who  married  the  'Flower  of  Yar- 
row,' one  of  the  most  beautiful  women  of  the  Border, 
who  lived  at  Dryhope,  near  the  foot  of  St.  Mary's  Loch. 

High  over  Borthwick's  mountain  flood 
His  wood-embosomed  mansion  stood. 

The  Borthwick  joins  the  Teviot  just  above  the  town  of 
Hawick.  The  house  of  Harden  stands  high  up  above  a 
deep  and  romantic  glen  where  there  was  ample  room  to 
conceal  'the  herds  of  plundered  England.' 

Marauding  chief!  his  sole  delight 
The  moonlight  raid,  the  morning  fight; 
Not  even  the  Flower  of  Yarrow's  charms 
In  youth  might  tame  his  rage  for  arms. 

35 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

Auld  Wat's  son,  afterwards  Sir  William  Scott  of  Harden, 
a  remarkably  handsome  man  and  an  early  favourite  of 
King  James  VI,  inherited  some  of  his  father's  propen- 
sities for  driving  ofif  his  neighbour's  cattle  and  other 
irregularities  common  to  the  time.  In  a  raid  upon  the 
lands  of  Sir  Gideon  Murray  of  Elibank  he  was  captured 
and  carried  in  chains  to  the  castle.  Elibank  is  now  a  ruin 
on  the  banks  of  the  Tweed  not  far  from  Ashestiel,  whither 
Scott  was  fond  of  walking  on  Sunday  mornings.  The 
legend  which  Scott  tells,  about  as  it  was  told  to  him  in 
his  youth,  and  not,  p>erhaps,  in  exact  accordance  with 
the  facts,  is  as  follows:  — 

When  the  young  marauder  was  brought  to  the  castle 
in  chains,  the  Lady  Murray  asked  her  lord  what  he  pro- 
posed to  do  with  him.  'Why,  hang  the  robber,  assur- 
edly,' was  the  answer.  'What,'  answered  the  lady, 
'hang  the  handsome  young  knight  of  Harden  when  I 
have  three  ill-favoured  daughters  unmarried!  No,  no, 
Sir  Gideon,  we  '11  force  him  to  marry  our  Meg.'  '  Meikle- 
mouthed  Meg'  was  the  ugliest  woman  in  the  country, 
and  young  Sir  William  promptly  decided  that  he  would 
rather  hang.  Three  days  were  given  him  to  think  the 
matter  over,  after  which  he  was  led  out  beneath  a  con- 
venient oak,  with  a  rope  tied  around  his  neck  and  the 
other  end  was  passed  over  a  stout  hmb  of  the  tree.  Then 
he  began  to  reconsider  and  decided  that,  as  between 
nooses,  he  preferred  the  matrimonial  one.  There  may 
be  some  advantages  in  ugly  wives  after  all,  and  one  of 
them,  in  this  case  at  least,  seemed  to  be  an  entire  ab- 
sence of  jealousy.  It  was  said,  moreover,  that '  Meg '  had 
'  a  curious  hand  at  pickling  the  beef  which  Sir  William 
stole.'  They  lived  a  very  happy  life.  The  marriage  con- 

36 


THE  LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL 

tract  was  written  on  the  head  of  a  drum  and  the  parch- 
ment is  still  preserved.  Scott  was  so  fond  of  the  legend 
that  he  wanted  to  make  it  the  subject  of  a  comic  ballad. 
He  accordingly  began,  but  never  finished  '  The  Reiver's 
Wedding.'  The  grandson  of  this  couple  was  Walter 
Scott,  known  as  'Beardie,'  the  great-grandfather  of  the 
poet. 

About  a  mile  above  the  junction  of  the  Teviot  with 
the  Borthwick  stands  the  castle  of  Branksome.  Seen 
from  the  opposite  side  of  the  river  standing  on  a  ter- 
raced slope,  partly  hidden  by  the  trees  and  shrubs,  it 
makes  a  pretty  picture. 

All,  all  is  peaceful,  all  is  still, 
and  there  is  nothing  to  suggest  the  time  when 

Nine  and  twenty  knights  of  fame  — 
Hung  their  shields  in  Branksome  Hall. 

It  seemed  to  us  more  modern  than  it  really  is,  for  it  was 
completed  in  its  present  form  in  the  year  1576.  The 
barony  of  Branxholme,  or  Branksome,  came  into  the 
possession  of  Sir  William  Scott  of  Buccleuch  in  the  early 
part  of  the  fifteenth  century  and  still  remains  in  the 
family.  The  towers  which  formerly  occupied  the  site 
were  attacked  by  the  English  again  and  again,  and  the 
castle  burned  and  pillaged.  It  will  be  remembered  that 
after  a  preliminary  survey  of  the  castle  and  its  attendant 
knights,  the  minstrel  tells  the  story  of  how  Lord  Walter 
fell,  of  the  widow's  desire  for  vengeance,  and  of  the  Lady 
Margaret's  love  for  Lord  Cranstoun,  her  father's  foe. 
Then  for  some  purpose  which  is  not  clearly  defined,  the 
'Ladye'  calls  to  her  side  the  boldest  knight  of  her  train, 
Sir  WilUam  of  Deloraine,  and  bids  him  ride  with  all 

37 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

haste  to  Melrose  Abbey,  there  to  open  the  grave  of  the 
wizard,  Michael  Scott,  and  to  take  from  it  the  '  Mighty 
Book.'  Sir  Michael  Scott  was  a  man  of  learning  who 
flourished  in  the  thirteenth  century.  He  wrote  several 
philosophical  treatises  and  devoted  much  time  to  the 
study  of  alchemy,  astrology,  chiromancy,  and  other 
abstruse  subjects,  whence  he  gained  the  reputation  of 
being  a  wizard.  Many  weird  tales  are  told  of  his  per- 
formances. Being  sent  as  an  ambassador  to  France  to 
demand  satisfaction  for  certain  grievances,  he  opened  his 
magic  book  and  caused  a  fiend  in  the  shape  of  a  huge 
black  horse  to  fly  out.  Mounting,  he  flew  across  the  sea 
and  presented  himself  to  the  king.  His  demands  were 
about  to  be  met  with  a  curt  refusal  when  Michael  begged 
the  king  to  defer  his  answer  xmtil  the  black  horse  had 
stamped  three  times.  The  first  stamp  set  all  the  bells  in 
Paris  to  ringing;  the  second  tvunbled  over  three  towers  of 
the  palace;  the  horse  raised  his  foot  for  the  third  stamp, 
but  the  king  would  not  risk  another  and  gave  to  Michael 
what  he  wanted.  It  was  this  same  wizard  who  *  cleft  the 
Eildon  Hills  in  three,'  the  triple  peaks  which  so  pic- 
turesquely dominate  the  entire  landscape  in  the  vicinity 
of  Melrose,  having  been  formerly,  so  it  is  said,  a  single 
summit.  It  has  always  been  understood  that  the  'magic 
book'  was  buried  with  the  wizard,  and  that  no  one  dared 
remove  it  because  of  the  'terrible  spells'  which  it  con- 
tained. 

The  knight  arrived  after  a  spirited  gallop,  and  shortly 
after  midnight  rapped  with  the  hilt  of  his  dagger  on  the 
wicket  gate.  The  porter  hurried  to  admit  him,  and  soon 
he  greeted  the  aged  monk  of  St.  Mary's  Aisle.  Sighing 
heavily  the  monk  conducted  the  man  of  arms  through 

38 


THE  LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL 

the  cloisters,  which  may  still  be  seen  looking  very  much 
as  the  poet  described  them  in  hnes  not  only  poetically 
beautiful  but  hterally  true:  — 

Spreading  herbs  and  flowerets  bright 
Glistened  with  the  dew  of  night; 
Nor  herb  nor  floweret  glistened  there 
But  was  carved  in  the  cloister  arches  as  fair. 

Seven  graceful  arches,  forming  stalls  or  seats  once  used 
by  the  dignitaries  of  the  church,  make  a  continuous  line 
along  the  eastern  wall.  Above  the  arches,  and  joining 
one  to  another,  are  stone  carvings  of  rare  delicacy  and 
beauty.  Of  the  more  than  a  hundred  separate  figures  in 
this  frieze  no  two  are  alike.  There  are  roses,  Ulacs, 
thistles,  ferns,  oak  leaves,  and  scores  of  other  representa- 
tions of  the  forms  of  nature,  all  exquisitely  carved  with 
inimitable  accuracy.  Scott  admired  these  arches  so 
greatly  that  he  copied  one  of  them  for  the  fireplace  of  the 
entrance  hall  at  Abbotsford. 

The  'steel-clenched  postern  door,'  through  which  the 
monk  and  the  knight  now  entered  the  chancel,  stands 
nearly  intact.  Its  three  arches  rest  on  graceful  pilasters 
surmounted  by  capitals,  with  carved  foliage  so  delicate 
that  a  straw  can  be  passed  behind  the  stalks  of  the 
leaves.  We  found  it  interesting  upon  entering  this  door 
to  note  the  accuracy  of  the  poet's  descriptions,  which 
the  guide  quoted  with  great  fluency.  The  pillars  sup- 
porting the  lofty  roof  spread  out  to  form  the  great 
arches,  seeming  to  be  'bundles  of  lances  which  garlands 
had  bound.' 

We  stood  beneath  this  arched  roof  for  a  long  time  to 
admire  the  beautiful  East  Window,  and  the  guide 
quoted:  — 

39 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

The  moon  on  the  East  oriel  shone 
Through  slender  shafts  of  shapely  stone 
By  foliaged  tracery  combined. 

It  is  almost  impossible  to  realize  that  these  long  and 
slender  shafts  are  really  carved  out  of  stone  and  that  the 
work  was  done  many  centuries  ago.  Scott  accounts  for  it 
poetically:  — 

Thou  wouldst  have  thought  some  fairy's  hand 
Twixt  poplars  straight  the  osier  wand 
In  many  a  freakish  knot  had  twined, 
Then  framed  a  spell  when  the  work  was  done, 
And  changed  the  willow  wreaths  to  stone. 

Beneath  the  window  lies  the  heart  of  Robert  Bruce.  It 
had  been  the  desire  of  the  monarch  that  his  heart  be 
interred  in  the  Holy  Sepulchre  at  Jerusalem.  After  his 
death  the  body  was  buried  beneath  the  high  altar  of  the 
church  at  Dunfermline,  but  the  heart  was  taken  out 
and  committed  to  the  keeping  of  James,  Lord  Douglas, 
who  undertook  to  carry  it  to  the  Holy  Land.  But  James 
was  defeated  and  killed  by  the  Saracens,  and  the  heart 
of  his  royal  master  was  taken  to  Melrose  and  buried 
there.  This  was  as  it  should  be,  for  the  heart  of  Bruce, 
figuratively  speaking,  was  always  in  Melrose.  After  the 
destruction  of  the  abbey  in  1322  by  Edward  II  on  his 
retreat  from  Scotland,  Bruce  made  a  grant  of  £2000 
sterling,  a  sum  equivalent  to  about  £50,000  in  the 
money  of  to-day.  Because  of  this  munificence  the  abbey 
was  rebuilt  in  all  the  beauty  and  perfection  which 
Gothic  architecture  could  suggest,  so  that  even  in  ruins 
it  is  still  a  structure  of  graceful  magnificence.  In  1384, 
the  abbey  was  again  destroyed,  but  later  restored.  In 
1544,  1545,  and  finally  a  century  later  under  the  Re- 

40 


THE  LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL 

formation,  the  abbey  suffered  serious  damage  from 
which  it  never  recovered. 

The  grave  of  Michael  Scott  which  Deloraine  was  sent 
to  open  was  pointed  out  to  us,  as  it  is  to  all  visitors,  but 
in  reality  its  exact  position  is  not  known.  Johnny 
Bower,  an  old  guide  of  whom  Scott  was  very  fond,  dis- 
covered the  position  of  the  grave  by  noting  the  direction 
of  the  moonbeams  through  the  oriel  window.  *  I  pointed 
out  the  whole  to  the  Shirra,'  said  he,  'and  he  couldna' 
gainsay  but  it  was  varra  clear. '  '  Scott, '  says  Washington 
Irving,  who  tells  the  story,  'used  to  amuse  himself  with 
the  simplicity  of  the  old  man  and  his  zeal  in  verifying 
every  passage  of  the  poem,  as  though  it  had  been  authen- 
tic history,  and  always  acquiesced  in  his  deductions.' 

Like  all  other  visitors  we  wanted  to  see  the  abbey 
properly,  and  that,  according  to  the  poet,  could  only  be 
done  by  moonlight. 

If  thou  wouldst  view  fair  Melrose  aright, 
Go  visit  it  by  the  pale  moonlight. 

The  moon  was  full  while  we  were  there  and  seemed  to 

offer   a   splendid   opportunity.     But    an   unexpected 

obstacle  appeared.    In  Scotland,  in  the  summer  time, 

the  evenings  are  very  long,  the  twilight  lasting  until  ten 

or  eleven  o'clock,  while  the  moon  makes  very  Uttle 

impression  until  a  late  hour.  And  the  custodian  of  the 

abbey  goes  to  bed  early !  So  it  was  impossible  to  see  the 

moon  shining  through  the  east  oriel,  but  fortunately  we 

could  see  the  outer  walls  from  the  windows  of  our  hotel, 

which  adjoins  the  ruin,  and  the  moon  kindly  favoured  us 

by  making 

Buttress  and  buttress  alternately 
Seem  framed  of  ebon  and  ivory. 

41 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

The  next  day  we  were  treated  to  a  superb  view  from  the 
private  grounds  of  a  gentleman  whose  estate  adjoins  the 
abbey.  From  this  point  the  entire  southern  wall,  which 
remains  nearly  intact,  gives  at  first  glance  the  impression 
of  a  complete  and  beautiful  Gothic  structure.  The  dis- 
tant hills  furnish  a  fine  background  and  the  well-kept 
lawns  and  graceful  birches  perform  the  double  duty  of 
shutting  out  the  graveyard  and  making  a  charming 
foregroimd. 

But  to  return  to  the  story.  While  William  of  Delo- 
raine,  with  the  mystic  book  pressed  close  to  his  breast, 
was  eagerly  returning  to  Branksome,  the  fair  Lady 
Margaret  was  early  awake  and  seeking  the  greenwood  at 
dawn  of  light  to  meet  her  lover,  the  Baron  Henry. 

A  fairer  pair  were  never  seen 

To  meet  beneath  the  hawthorn  green. 

He  was  stately  and  young  and  tall, 

Dreaded  in  battle  and  loved  in  hall; 

And  she,  when  love,  scarce  told,  scarce  hid, 

Lent  to  her  cheek  a  livelier  red. 

When  the  half  sigh  her  swelling  breast 

Against  the  silken  ribbon  pressed, 

When  her  blue  eyes  their  secret  told, 

Though  shaded  by  her  locks  of  gold  — 

Where  would  you  find  the  peerless  fair 

With  Margaret  of  Branksome  might  compare! 

Lockhart  finds  in  this  passage  *  the  form  and  features  of 
Scott's  first  love,'  and  also  says  that  the  choice  of  the 
hero  was  dictated  by  the  poet's  affection  for  the  living 
descendants  of  the  Baron  of  Cranstoun.  One  of  these, 
George  Cranstoun,  afterward  Lord  Corehouse,  was  one 
of  Scott's  earUest  friends.  His  sister,  the  Countess  of 
Purgstall,  was  the  confidante  of  Scott  at  the  time  of  his 
early  disappointment  in  love. 

4t 


THE  LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL 

The  meeting  of  the  lovers  was  all  too  brief.  The 
Baron's  horse  pricked  up  his  ears, '  as  if  a  distant  noise  he 
hears,'  and  the  goblin  dwarf  signed  to  the  lovers  to  part 
and  fly.  William  of  Deloraine,  returning  from  his  all- 
night  ride,  was  seen  coming  down  the  hill  into  'Brank- 
some's  hawthorn  green.'  No  words  were  wasted. 

Their  very  coursers  seemed  to  know 
That  each  was  other's  mortal  foe. 

Like  the  bursting  of  a  thundercloud  the  two  champions 
met,  and  in  another  moment  William  of  Deloraine  lay- 
on  the  ground,  with  Cranstoun's  lance,  broken,  in  his 
bosom.  The  goblin  page  was  directed  to  attend  the 
wounded  knight,  and  in  doing  so  discovered  the '  Mighty 
Book'  from  which  he  learned  some  mischievous  'spells.* 
The  son  of  the  Ladye  of  Branksome  was  lured  into  the 
woods  and  fell  into  the  hands  of  an  English  yeoman  who 
took  him,  a  captive,  to  Lord  Dacre.  Scouts  hurrying 
into  the  castle  brought  news  of  the  approach  of  three 
thousand  Englishmen  led  by  'Belted  Will  Howard'  and 
'Hot  Lord  Dacre.' 

Naworth  Castle,  the  home  of  the  Dacres  and  later  of 
the  Howards,  was  one  of  the  first  places  we  visited.  It  is 
a  fine  old  baronial  castle  in  Cumberland  County,  about 
twelve  miles  from  Carlisle.  It  was  built  in  the  four- 
teenth century  by  the  Dacre  family,  who  derived  their 
name  from  the  exploits  of  an  ancestor  who  was  conspicu- 
ous at  the  Siege  of  Acre  in  the  Holy  Land,  under  King 
Richard  the  Lion-Hearted.  In  the  sixteenth  century  it 
passed  into  the  possession  of  Lord  William  Howard,  a 
famous  'warden  of  the  marches,'  who  became  known  as 
'Belted  Will  Howard.' 

43 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

His  BUboa  blade,  by  Marchmen  felt, 
Hung  in  a  broad  and  studded  belt ; 
Hence,  in  rude  phrase,  the  Borderers  still 
Called  noble  Howard  Belted  Will. 


One  of  the  towers  of  Naworth,  which  this  celebrity  occu- 
pied, still  remains  much  as  he  left  it,  even  to  the  books 
that  formed  his  library.  Lanercost  Priory,  the  burial- 
place  of  the  Howards  and  D  acres,  is  an  tmusually  pic- 
turesque and  interesting  ruin  in  the  same  vicinity. 

The  beacon  fires  soon  summoned  a  goodly  array  of 
the  best  blood  of  Scotland  to  meet  the  English  invaders, 
among  whom  were  Archibald  Douglas,  seventh  Earl  of 
Angus,  a  descendant  of  James,  Lord  Douglas,  who  at- 
tempted to  carry  the  heart  of  Bruce  to  the  Holy  Land. 
But  the  battle  was  averted,  and  instead  a  single  combat 
arranged  between  Richard  of  Musgrave  and  William  of 
Deloraine,  the  prize  of  the  field  to  be  the  young  Buc- 
cleuch,  who  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  English. 
The  Lady  of  Branksome  was  escorted  to  the  field  of  the 
tournament  by  Lord  Howard,  while  Margaret  had  the 
stately  Douglas  by  her  side.  The  strife  was  desperate 
and  long,  and  in  the  end  Musgrave  was  slain.  But  not 
by  the  hand  of  William  of  Deloraine.  Lord  Cranstoun, 
by  the  aid  of  magic  learned  from  the  '  Mighty  Book '  and 
assisted  by  the  goblin  page,  had  contrived  to  array  him- 
self in  the  armour  of  Sir  William  and  so  had  won  the 
fight. 

'And  who  art  thou,'  they  cried, 
'Who  hast  this  battle  fought  and  won?' 
His  plum6d  helm  was  soon  undone  — 

'Cranstoun  of  Teviot-side! 
For  this  fair  prize  I  've  fought  and  won '  — 
And  to  the  Ladye  led  her  son. 

44 


THE  LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL 

Then  and  there  the  feud  was  ended.    The  Ladye  of 

Branksome,  declaring  that  'pride  is  quelled  and  love  is 

free,'  gave  the  hand  of  Margaret  to  the  Baron  of  Crans- 

toun,  with  all  the  noble  lords  assembled  to  grace  the 

betrothal  with  their  presence. 

The  sixth  canto  is  superfluous  if  we  consider  that  the 

story  ends  with  the  betrothal.  And  yet  it  contains  some 

of  the  finest  passages  in  the  whole  poem.  It  opens  with 

that  superb  outburst  of  patriotism,  beginning,  — 

Breathes  there  the  man,  with  soul  so  dead, 
Who  never  to  himself  hath  said, 
This  is  my  own,  my  native  land?  — 

which  shows,  better  than  anything  else,  the  extent  to 
which  Scott's  inspiration  was  derived  from  his  own 
Scotland. 

0  Caledonia,  stern  and  wild, 

Meet  nurse  for  a  poetic  child! 

Land  of  brown  heath  and  shaggy  wood, 

Land  of  the  mountain  and  the  flood. 

Land  of  my  sires!  what  mortal  hand 

Can  e'er  untie  the  filial  band 

That  knits  me  to  thy  rugged  strand! 

Here,  too,  we  find  the  ballad  of  the  lovely  Rosabelle, 
having  its  scene  in  the  Castle  of  Roslin,  in  the  vale  of  the 
Esk,  which  Scott  learned  to  love  during  those  six  bright 
years  spent  at  Lasswade.  This  alone  would  almost  jus- 
tify the  extra  canto,  but  we  have  in  addition  the  stately 
requiem  of  Melrose  Abbey,  bringing  the  poem  to  a 
solemn  and  beautiful  close. 
Then  comes  the  final  word  of  the  old  minstrel:  — 

Hushed  is  the  harp  —  the  Minstrel  gone. 
And  did  he  wander  forth  alone? 
Alone,  in  indigence  and  age. 
To  linger  out  his  pilgrimage? 

45 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

No:  close  beneath  proud  Newark's  tower 
Arose  the  Minstrel's  lowly  bower, 
A  simple  hut ;  but  there  was  seen 
The  little  garden  hedged  with  green, 
The  cheerful  hearth,  and  lattice  dean. 

These  lines  are  but  the  embodiment  of  one  of  Scott's 
dreams  at  the  time  he  wrote  them.  The  small  estate  of 
Broadmeadows,  near  the  ruins  of  Newark,  was  about  to 
be  offered  for  sale,  and  Scott,  dreaming  of  the  time  when 
he  might  have  a  home  of  his  own,  rode  around  it  fre- 
quently with  Lord  and  Lady  Dalkeith,  earnestly  hoping 
that  some  day  he  might  possess  it.  But  the  vision  faded 
when  the  success  of  the  poem  gave  him  larger  ambitions, 
leading  ultimately  to  the  purchase  of  Abbotsford. 


CHAPTER  m 

MARSnON 

There  was  no  title  of  which  Scott  was  more  fond  than 
that  of  'Sheriff  of  Ettrick  Forest.'  The  'Shirra,'  as  he 
was  affectionately  called,  was  a  welcome  guest  in  every 
farmhouse  and  there  were  few  in  the  region  where  he 
had  not  been  entertained.  The  'Forest'  comprises  the 
great  tract  of  hilly  country  lying  between  the  Tweed  and 
Ettrick  Water  and  extending  as  far  east  as  Selkirk. 
Perhaps  because  we  were  famihar  with  the  Adirondacks 
and  the  Blue  Ridge  Mountains,  where  one  may  travel 
for  hours  in  the  shade  of  the  'forest  primeval,'  it  was  to 
us  a  distinct  disappointment,  and  recalled  the  remark  of 
Washington  Irving,  that  you  could  almost  see  a  stout 
fly  walking  along  the  profile  of  the  hills.  Centuries  ago 
these  hills,  now  completely  denuded,  were  clothed  with  a 
dense  growth  of  trees  and  the  entire  region  was  set  apart 
as  a  royal  hunting-ground.  It  is  recorded  that  in  the 
sixteenth  century  King  James  V  gave  a  royal  hunting- 
party,  in  which  the  nobles  and  gentlemen  of  Scotland  to 
the  extent  of  twelve  thousand  men  participated.  But 
love  of  sport  at  length  gave  way  to  royal  cupidity.  For 
the  sake  of  increasing  his  revenue,  the  king  turned  the 
forest  into  a  huge  sheep  pasture,  and  these  hungry  ani- 
mals, still  retaining  possession,  have  literally  destroyed 
the  forest  and  changed  the  whole  aspect  of  the  land. 
Scott,  nevertheless,  loved  the  bare  hills,  and  said,  'If  I 

47 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

could  not  see  the  heather  at  least  once  a  year,  I  think  I 
should  die.' 

The  duties  of  the  Sheriff's  ofl5ce  compelled  a  change 
from  Lasswade  to  a  place  nearer  the  town  of  Selkirk, 
and  Scott  found  a  small  farm  well  suited  to  his  fancy, 
near  the  northern  limits  of  the  'Forest,'  at  Ashestiel, 
on  high  ground  overlooking  the  Tweed.  Here  he  spent 
some  of  the  happiest  summers  of  his  life.  In  a  letter  to 
Dr.  Leyden,  he  gives  a  pleasant  picture  of  his  happy 
family  at  this  time:  — 

Here  we  live  all  the  siunmer  like  little  kings,  and  only  wish 
that  you  could  take  a  scamper  with  me  over  the  hills  in  the 
morning,  and  return  to  a  clean  tablecloth,  a  leg  of  forest 
mutton,  and  a  blazing  hearth  in  the  afternoon.  Walter  has 
acquired  the  surname  of  Gilnockie,  being  large  of  limb  and 
bone  and  dauntless  in  disposition  like  that  noted  chieftain. 
Yoiu  little  friend  Sophia  is  grown  a  tall  girl,  and  I  think 
promises  to  be  very  clever,  as  she  discovers  uncommon 
acuteness  of  apprehension.  We  have,  moreover,  a  little 
roundabout  girl  with  large  dark  eyes,  as  brown,  as  good- 
hmnoured,  and  as  lively  as  the  mother  that  bore  her,  and  of 
whom  she  is  the  most  striking  picture.  Over  and  above  all 
this,  there  is  in  rerum  natura  a  certain  little  Charles,  so 
called  after  the  Knight  of  the  Crocodile;  but  of  this  gentle- 
man I  can  say  but  little,  as  he  is  only  five  months  old,  and 
consequently  not  at  the  time  of  life  when  I  can  often  enjoy 
the  'honour  of  his  company.' 

Of  the  house  itself  and  its  surroundings  Lockhart  has 
given  a  charming  description:  — 

You  approached  it  through  an  old-fashioned  garden,  with 
holly  hedges,  and  broad,  green  terrace  walks.  On  one  side, 
close  under  the  windows,  is  a  deep  ravine,  clothed  with  ven- 
erable trees,  down  which  a  mountain  rivulet  is  heard,  more 
than  seen,  in  its  progress  to  the  Tweed.  The  river  itself  is 

48 


MARMION 

separated  from  the  high  bank  on  which  the  house  stands  only 
by  a  narrow  meadow  of  the  richest  verdure.  Opposite,  and 
all  around,  are  the  green  hills.  The  valley  there  is  narrow 
and  the  aspect  in  every  direction  is  that  of  perfect  pastoral 
repose. 

They  were  eight  miles  from  the  nearest  town  and  four 
from  the  nearest  neighbour.  The  latter  circumstance 
Scott  did  not  regret,  though  he  found  the  former  some- 
what inconvenient  for  obtaining  needed  supplies  and 
naively  complains  to  Lady  Abercorn  that  he  had  been 
compelled  to  go  out  and  shoot  a  crow  to  get  a  quill  with 
which  to  write  her.  Nearly  the  whole  country  rounda- 
bout belonged  to  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch,  who  gave  the 
poet  full  liberty  to  hunt  upon  his  estates.  The  Tweed  in 
the  vicinity  of  Ashestiel  and  of  Elibank,  a  little  above, 
was  unsurpassed  for  fishing.  A  favourite  sport  was 
'leistering  kippers,'  or  spearing  salmon  at  night  by  the 
light  of  a  blazing  peat  fire.  Perhaps  the  most  exhilarat- 
ing pastime  of  all  was  the  horseback  riding,  in  which  the 
poet  was  an  expert.  Accompanied  by  one  or  more  of 
his  most  congenial  friends,  he  would  make  excursions 
into  remote  regions,  never  dismounting  in  the  very  worst 
paths  and  displaying  powers  of  endurance  and  fearless- 
ness that  made  him  the  wonder  and  the  envy  of  his  com- 
panions. 

Scott  was  now  in  the  full  vigour  of  his  manhood.  The 
weakness  of  earlier  years  had  disappeared,  and  with  the 
exception  of  the  lameness,  which  never  left  him,  he  was 
strong  and  healthy  in  body  as  well  as  mind.  He  was  in 
the  full  flush  of  his  first  great  fame  as  a  man  of  letters, 
and  the  trials  of  his  later  life  had  not  yet  begun. 

It  was  at  this  period  and  under  these  circumstances 

49 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

that  the  poem  of  'Marmion'  was  written.  The  poet's 
enthusiasm  for  the  locality  in  which  he  lived,  and  for 
the  friends  who  made  that  life  a  joy,  found  expression 
in  the  Introductions  to  the  six  cantos,  each  addressed 
to  one  of  his  intimate  companions.  Most  readers  of 
'Marmion,'  becioming  absorbed  in  the  story,  have  re- 
garded these  introductions  as  unnecessary  interruptions. 
But  no  one  would  wish  them  to  be  omitted,  for  they  re- 
veal the  author  who  is  telling  the  tale,  and  we  seem  to  see 
him  in  his  changing  environment,  through  the  successive 
seasons  as  the  poem  advances,  beginning  with  the  day  at 
Ashestiel,  when 

November's  sky  is  chill  and  drear 
November's  leaf  is  red  and  sear; 

and  closing  with  the  Christmas-time,  a  year  later  at 
Mertoun  House,  where  the  poet  passed  the  happy  days 
in  the  house  where  his  great  grandsire  came  of  old,  'the 
feast  and  holy  tide  to  share.' 

The  introductions  were  originally  intended  to  be  pub- 
lished in  a  separate  volume  as  '  Six  Epistles  from  Ettrick 
Forest.'  The  first,  as  of  course  every  one  knows,  is 
inscribed  to  William  Stewart  Rose,  a  poet  who  is  chiefly 
known  for  his  translation  of  Ariosto's  'Orlando  Furioso.' 
It  opens  with  a  fine  description  of  the  beginning  of  win- 
ter at  Ashestiel,  then  turns  to  thoughts  of '  My  country's 
wintry  state,'  and  the  loss  to  Britain  brought  by  the 
death  of  the  two  rival  statesmen,  Pitt  and  Fox,  who  had 
passed  away  in  the  same  year,  1806,  in  which  the  poem 
was  begun. 

The  second  canto,  inscribed  to  the  Rev.  John  Mar- 
riott, is  reminiscent  of  scenes  and  incidents  of  the  Et- 
trick Forest.  The  third  canto  is  the  most  important  of 

SO 


MARMION 

all  because  of  its  autobiographic  character.  It  is  ad- 
dressed to  William  Erskine,  a  warm  friend  of  the  poet's 
youth,  in  whose  literary  judgment  Scott  reposed  the 
firmest  faith.  He  had  been  from  the  beginning  a  kind  of 
hterary  monitor,  sympathizing  fully  with  Scott's  feeling 
for  the  picturesque  side  of  Scottish  life,  but  strongly 
urging  him  to  follow  more  closely  the  masters  of  poetry 
in  some  of  the  minor  graces  of  arrangement  and  diction. 
This  the  poet  declares  is  impossible,  and  exclaims:  — 

Though  wild  as  cloud,  as  stream,  as  gale 
Flow  forth,  flow  unrestrained,  my  tale! 

In  this  Introduction  the  poet's  mind  reverts  to  the 
scenes  of  his  childhood,  the  old  farm  at  Sandy  Knowe, 
where  he  lived  with  his  grandfather,  and  the  ancient 
tower  of  Smailholm  near  by. 

Then  rise  those  crags,  that  mountain  tower, 
Which  charmed  my  fancy's  wakening  hour. 


It  was  a  barren  scene  and  wild. 

Where  naked  cliffs  were  rudely  piled. 

But  ever  and  anon  between 

Lay  velvet  tufts  of  loveliest  green; 

And  well  the  lonely  infant  knew 

Recesses  where  the  wall-flower  grew. 

And  honeysuckle  loved  to  crawl 

Up  the  low  crag  and  ruined  wall. 

I  deemed  such  nooks  the  sweetest  shade 

The  sun  in  all  its  round  surveyed. 

The  preparation  for  the  writing  of  'Marmion'  began 
right  here,  for  the  love  of  martial  tales  so  early  implanted 
in  the  poet's  breast  never  ceased  to  grow  until  it  reached 
its  full  maturity. 

While  stretched  at  length  upon  the  floor, 
Again  I  fought  each  combat  o'er, 

SI 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

Pebbles  and  shells,  in  order  laid, 
The  mimic  ranks  of  war  displayed; 
And  onward  still  the  Scottish  lion  bore, 
And  still  the  scattered  Southron  fled  before. 

The  fourth  canto  is  inscribed  to  the  poet's  artist  friend, 
James  Skene,  with  whom  he  made  many  an  excursion 
on  horseback  through  the  Border  country.  It  recalls 
many  memories  of  summer  days  and  winter  nights,  hap- 
pily spent  with  mutual  friends.  The  fifth  is  addressed  to 
George  Ellis,  a  man  of  wide  knowledge  of  poetry  and 
extensive  Uterary  attainments,  with  whom  Scott  was  on 
terms  of  almost  brotherly  intimacy.  It  was  written 
from  Edinburgh,  more  than  a  year  after  the  beginning 
of  the  poem,  and  is  distinguished  by  a  fine  outburst  of 
enthusiasm  for  the  poet's  native  city,  'Caledonia's 
Queen.'  The  sixth  canto  and  the  last  is  dedicated  to 
Richard  Heber,  who  had  rendered  able  assistance  in  the 
preparation  of  the  'Border  Minstrelsy.'  He  was  a  mem- 
ber of  Parliament  for  Oxford  and  a  man  of  profound 
knowledge  of  the  literary  monuments  of  the  Middle 
Ages.  He  possessed  an  extensive  library  to  which  he 
gave  the  poet  free  access,  and  his  oral  commentaries 
were  scarcely  less  important.  The  introduction  was 
written  at  Mertoun  House,  where  Scott  had  gone  to 
spend  the  Christmas  season  at  the  home  of  the  head  of 
his  clan. 

Heap  on  more  wood!  —  the  wind  is  chill; 

But  let  it  whistle  as  it  will, 

We  '11  keep  our  Christmas  merry  still. 

A  brief  review  of  the  well-known  narrative  will  serve 
to  point  out  the  most  important  of  the  many  interesting 
and  often  beautiful  scenes  which  the  poet  so  graphically 

52 


MARMION 

describes.    The  story  opens,  as  everybody  knows,  at 

Norham  Castle  at  close  of  day,  when  Lord  Marmion, 

mounted  on  his  red-roan  charger,  proudly  enters,  — 

Armed  from  head  to  heel 
In  mail  and  plate  of  Milan  steel, 

with  helm  richly  embossed  with  burnished  gold  and  sur- 
mounted by  a  flowing  crest,  amid  which 

A  falcon  hovered  on  her  nest, 

With  wings  outspread  and  forward  breast. 

He  was  followed  by  two  gallant  and  ambitious  squires; 
then  came  four  men-at-arms  'with  halbert,  bill,  and 
battle-axe,'  bearing  their  chieftain's  lance  and  pennon; 
and  finally  twenty  yeomen,  each  a  chosen  archer  who 
could  bend  a  six-foot  bow,  and  all  with  falcons  embroid- 
ered on  their  breasts.  They  were  welcomed  with  blare 
of  trumpets  and  the  martial  salute  of  cannon,  making  a 
clangor,  such  as  the  old  turrets  of  Norham  had  seldom 
heard.  Marmion  responded  to  the  noisy  welcome  of 
soldiers  and  minstrels  by  a  lavish  distribution  of  gold 
and  was  ushered  into  the  presence  of  Sir  Hugh  the  Heron, 
with  whom  he  spent  the  hours  till  midnight  in  sumptu- 
ous feasting. 

Norham  Castle,  the  ruins  of  which  we  reached  at  the 
close  of  day,  after  a  long  tour  by  motor  from  Berwick, 
was  once  a  magnificent  mansion  and  fortress,  standing 
on  high  ground  overlooking  the  Tweed.  For  a  thousand 
years  it  was  the  scene  of  alternating  peace  and  turmoil. 
Founded  in  the  seventh  century,  it  passed  from  English 
to  Scottish  hands  and  back  again  for  many  years.  By 
the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth  century  it  had  become 
one  of  the  strongest  of  English  fortresses.  James  IV 
captured  it  just  before  the  battle  of  Flodden  Field,  but 

S3 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

after  that  event  the  English  recovered  it.  For  the  past 
three  hundred  years  it  has  been  crumbling  to  ruins,  and 
now  there  is  little  left  except  a  single  wall  and  a  remnant 

of  the 

sable  palisade, 
That  closed  the  castle  barricade 

before  which  Marmion's  bugle-horn  was  sounded. 

Like  so  many  of  Scott's  characters,  Marmion,  though 
a  fictitious  personage,  moved  among  the  real  people  of 
history  and  could  boast  a  genuine  ancestry.  There  was  a 
distinguished  family  of  Marmion,  Lords  of  Fontenoy  in 
Normandy,  one  of  whom  became  a  follower  of  William 
the  Conqueror  and  received  a  grant  of  the  castle  and 
tower  of  Tamworth  and  the  manor  of  Scrivelby,  in 
Lincolnshire.  The  family  became  extinct  in  the  latter 
part  of  the  thirteenth  century. 

In  the  second  canto  the  scene  changes  to  St.  Cuth- 
bert's  Holy  Isle,  where  Constance  de  Beverley  is  a  pris- 
oner. She  had  broken  her  vows  as  a  nun  and  deserted 
the  convent  to  follow  Marmion,  in  the  guise  of  a  page, 
as  his  paramour  — 

And  forfeited  to  be  his  slave 

All  here,  and  all  beyond  the  grave. 

The  island,  so  called,  is  on  the  English  coast  of  the  North 
Sea,  about  ten  miles  southeast  of  Berwick.  We  reached 
it  by  crossing  the  sands  in  a  two- wheeled  vehicle,  some- 
thing like  an  Irish  jaunting-car,  in  which  springless 
instrument  of  torture  we  were  compelled  to  travel  about 
three  miles.  At  intervals  along  the  route  there  are  httle 
groups  of  poles  standing  in  the  water,  with  miniature 
platforms  near  the  top.  These  are  havens  of  refuge.  If 

54 


MARMION 

you  get  caught  by  the  rising  tides  you  have  only  to  make 
for  one  of  these,  and,  after  watching  your  horse  drown, 
wait  for  five  or  six  hours  until,  with  the  turn  of  the  tide, 
somebody  comes  along  to  rescue  you.  Our  enterprising 
Jehu  assured  us  that  the  tide  would  be  running  out,  and 
that  there  was  no  danger.  But  when  about  halfway 
over  we  began  to  notice  that  the  ride  was  rising,  and 
the  water  was  soon  nearly  up  to  the  bed  of  the  wagon. 
We  had  made  the  entire  journey  in  the  face  of  a  rising 
tide  and  reached  the  island  none  too  soon,  for  it  was 
nearly  high  tide. 

Cuthbert,  the  patron  saint  of  the  Holy  Island,  flour- 
ished in  the  seventh  century.  He  was  a  prior  of  the  orig- 
inal Melrose  Abbey — not  the  one  which  is  now  a  ruin  in 
the  town  of  that  name,  but  its  predecessor  which  occupied 
a  site  farther  down  the  Tweed.  Later  he  became  Prior 
of  Lindisf arne  and  afterward  Bishop.  The  ruins  of  the 
abbey  show  that  it  must  have  been  a  very  extensive 
establishment  of  great  antiquity.  Besides  the  founda- 
tion stones,  little  now  remains  except  part  of  the  walls 
of  the  church  which  are  best  described  in  the  poet's 
words:  — 

In  Saxon  strength  that  abbey  frowned, 
With  massive  arches  broad  and  round, 
That  rose  alternate,  row  and  row, 
On  ponderous  columns,  short  and  low, 
BuUt  ere  the  art  was  known 
By  pointed  aisle  and  shafted  stalk 
The  arcades  of  an  alleyed  walk 
To  emulate  in  stone. 

We  searched  in  vain  for  the  dreadful  'Vault  of  Peni- 
tence,' the  awful  dungeon  below  the  abbey,  its  position 
known  only  by  the  abbot,  to  which  both  victim  and 

55 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

executioner  were  led  blindfold.  There  is  no  trace  of  any 
underground  vaults  nor  of  anything  resembling  the 
niche  where  poor  Constance  was  immured,  to  die  a  slow 
death  from  starvation.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  Lindisfame 
was  never  a  convent  at  all.  But  at  Coldingham  Abbey, 
on  the  coast  of  Scotland  not  many  miles  away,  there  was 
discovered,  in  Scott's  time,  a  female  skeleton  which, 
from  the  shape  of  the  niche  and  the  position  of  the 
figure,  seemed  to  be  that  of  a  nun  immured  very  much 
as  Constance  was  supposed  to  have  been. 

Returning  to  Norham  Castle,  and  continuing  the 
narrative,  we  find  Marmion  and  his  men  preparing  to 
depart  at  an  early  hour  of  the  morning  following  their 
arrival.  Guided  by  the  supposed  Holy  Palmer,  they 
travelled  all  day,  following  the  mountain  paths  straight 
across  the  Lammermuir  Hills,  in  a  northwesterly  direc- 
tion, imtil  at  close  of  day  they  came  to  the  village  of 
Gifford,  four  or  five  miles  south  of  the  town  of  Hadding- 
ton. A  night  at  the  village  inn,  a  weird  ghost  story  by 
the  landlord,  and  a  strange,  imcanny  adventure  of  Mar- 
mion resulting  from  it,  complete  the  experiences  of  the 
first  twenty-four  hours.  The  next  day  the  travellers 
meet  a  messenger  from  the  King,  Sir  David  Lindsay,  by 
whom  they  are  escorted  to  Crichton  Castle  and  enter- 
tained in  royal  magnificence.  We  found  the  ruins  of  this 
picturesque  old  castle  on  the  banks  of  the  Tyne,  a  dozen 
miles  southeast  from  Edinburgh.  From  his  boyhood 
they  had  exercised  a  fascinating  influence  upon  the  poet. 

Crichtoun!  though  now  thy  miry  court 
But  pens  the  lazy  steer  and  sheep, 
Thy  turrets  rude  and  tottered  keep 

Have  been  the  minstrel's  loved  resort. 

56 


MARMION 

During  his  school  days,  Scott  took  many  a  vacation 
tramp  to  visit  the  scenes  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Edin- 
burgh which  appealed  to  his  fancy,  and  nothing  ever 
made  a  stronger  appeal  than  some  old  ruin  to  which  was 
attached  a  bit  of  history  or  legend.  Referring  to  the 
time  when  he  was  about  thirteen  years  old,  he  says,  in 
the  brief  fragment  of  his  'Autobiography':  — 

To  this  period  I  can  trace  distinctly  the  awaking  of  that 
delightful  feeling  for  the  beauties  of  natural  objects  which 
has  never  since  deserted  me.  .  . .  The  romantic  feelings  which 
I  have  described  as  predominating  in  my  mind,  naturally 
rested  upon  and  associated  themselves  with  these  grand 
features  of  the  landscape  around  me;  and  the  historical  inci- 
dents, or  traditional  legends  connected  with  many  of  them, 
gave  to  my  admiration  a  sort  of  intense  impression  of  rever- 
ence, which  at  times  made  my  heart  feel  too  big  for  its  bosom. 
From  this  time  the  love  of  natural  beauty,  more  especially 
when  combined  with  ancient  ruins,  or  remains  of  our  fathers' 
piety  or  splendour,  became  with  me  an  insatiable  passion, 
which, if  circumstances  had  permitted,!  would  willingly  have 
gratified  by  travelling  over  half  the  globe. 

It  was  with  something  of  this  same  feeling  that  the 
poet  caused  Marmion  to  travel  from  Norham  to  Edin- 
burgh by  a  circuitous  route,  in  order  that  he  might  visit 
Crichton  and  afterward  view  Edinburgh  from  the  Black- 
ford Hills.  Mr.  Guthrie  Wright,  a  friend  and  relative 
of  Scott's  friend,  Erskine,  once  asked  the  poet:  'Why  did 
ever  mortal  coming  from  England  to  Edinburgh  go  by 
Gifford,  Crichton  Castle,  Borthwick  Castle,  and  over  the 
top  of  Blackford  Hill?  Not  only  is  it  a  circuitous  detour, 
but  there  never  was  a  road  that  way  since  the  world  was 
created!'  'That  is  a  most  irrelevant  objection,'  said 
Sir  Walter;  'it  was  my  good  pleasure  to  bring  Marmion 

57 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

by  that  route,  for  the  purpose  of  describing  the  places 
you  have  mentioned,  and  the  view  from  Blackford  Hill 
—  it  was  his  business  to  find  the  road  and  pick  his  steps 
the  best  way  he  could.' 

At  Crichton,  Marmion  heard  from  Sir  David  Lind- 
say a  legend  of  King  James  and  the  Palace  of  Linlithgow. 

Of  all  the  palaces  so  fair 

Built  for  the  royal  dwelling 
In  Scotland,  far  beyond  compare 

Linlithgow  is  excelling. 

This  famous  palace,  now  a  ruin,  lies  about  midway  be- 
tween Edinburgh  and  Glasgow.  It  is  beautifully  situ- 
ated on  a  small  loch,  from  the  opposite  shores  of  which 
it  makes  an  imposing  appearance.  The  walls  are  in  a 
good  state  of  preservation  and  still  give  some  intimations 
of  the  early  magnificence  of  the  royal  residence.  Three 
of  the  Stuart  kings,  James  III,  IV,  and  V,  occupied  it  in 
succession.  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  was  bom  here  in 
what  was  once  a  large  and  beautiful  room.  On  the 
opposite  side  of  the  building  is  a  room  ninety-eight  feet 
long  and  thirty  feet  wide,  formerly  used  by  the  Scottish 
Parliaments,  and  the  scene  of  many  a  state  banquet. 
At  one  end  is  an  immense  fireplace  which  still  remains  in 
almost  perfect  condition.  In  the  large  court  are  the  re- 
mains of  a  fine  fountain,  with  elaborate  carvings,  erected 
by  James  V  in  anticipation  of  his  marriage  with  the 
Princess  Madeleine  of  France.  The  most  striking  feature 
of  the  palace  is  Queen  Margaret's  Bower,  a  lofty  turret, 
where  it  is  said  the  Queen  watched  all  day  for  her  hus- 
band's return  from  Flodden  Field,  only  to  learn  of  his 
disastrous  defeat  and  death.  As  I  stood  on  the  parapet 
opposite  the  bower,  preparing  to  make  its  photograph, 

S8 


MARMION 

the  custodian  reminded  me  that  I  was  standing  where 
many  famous  people  used  to  promenade. 

Adjoining  the  palace  is  the  ancient  church  of  St. 
Michael's,  where,  according  to  Lindsay's  story,  King 
James  received  the  ghostly  visitor  in  the  semblance  of  the 
Apostle  John,  bearing  the  prophetic  warning:  — 

*My  mother  sent  me  from  afar, 
Sir  King,  to  warn  thee  not  to  war,  — 

Woe  waits  on  thine  array; 
If  war  thou  wilt,  of  woman  fair, 
Her  witching  wiles  and  wanton  snare, 
James  Stuart,  doubly  warned,  beware: 

God  keep  thee  as  he  may!' 

From  Crichton  the  journey  to  the  Scottish  camp  was 
resumed,  and  the  party  now  traverses  ground  even  more 
familiar  to  the  poet:  — 

Early  they  took  Dun-Edin's  road. 
And  I  could  trace  each  step  they  trode; 
Hill,  brook,  nor  dell,  nor  rock,  nor  stone, 
Lies  on  the  path  to  me  unknown. 

Over  this  well-worn  road  they  reached  the  top  of  Black- 
ford Hill,  and  the  view  that  met  their  eyes  aroused  an 
enthusiasm  that  even  Marmion,  sullen  warrior  that  he 
was,  could  scarcely  suppress.  The  Scottish  camp,  lying 
on  the  plain  below,  is  painted  in  all  the  colours  of  the 
rainbow:  — 

A  thousand  streamers  flaunted  fair; 
Various  in  shape,  device,  and  hue, 
Green,  sanguine,  purple,  red,  and  blue. 

The  city,  too,  is  pictured  in  colours  no  less  vivid  and 
glows  '  with  gloomy  splendour,  red.'  The  Ochil  Moun- 
tains, reflecting  the  morning  rays  are  like  a  'purple  ame- 

59 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

thyst';  the  islands  in  the  Firth  are  like  'emeralds  chased 
in  gold';  and  a  'dusky  grandeur  clothed  the  height, 
where  the  huge  castle  holds  its  state.' 

The  scene  which  Marmion  saw,  the  poet  admits,  was 
far  different  in  his  own  time;  and  it  has  changed,  per- 
haps, even  more  since  Sir  Walter's  day,  for  the  plain 
where  King  James's  army  lay  is  now  filled  with  well- 
built  cottages.  But  the  dominating  features  of  the  view, 
the  huge  castle  on  the  left,  Arthur's  Seat  and  the  Salis- 
bury Crags  on  the  right,  Calton  Hill,  and  the  crown- 
shaped  steeple  of  St.  Giles  still  remain  to  command  our 
admiration  and  delight. 

Passing  through  the  Scottish  camp,  Marmion  and  his 
train  soon  came  to  Holyrood  Palace.  The  tower  on  the 
left  was  built  by  James  IV  as  a  royal  palace  in  1498- 
1503.  In  the  latter  year  it  was  the  scene  of  the  mar- 
riage of  the  King  to  Princess  Margaret,  the  daughter 
of  Henry  VII  of  England.  The  wedding  was  celebrated 
with  great  magnificence.  Here  Marmion  is  received 
by  the  King,  who,  on  the  night  before  marching  to  the 
south,  is  making  Holyrood  ring  with  'wassail,  mirth, 
and  glee.'  He  is  devoting  much  attention  to  the  wife 
of  Sir  Hugh  the  Heron,  who  sings  for  him  the  song 
of  the  young  Lochinvar.  A  glance,  thrown  by  'the 
witching  dame'  to  Marmion,  arouses  the  jealous  dis- 
pleasure of  the  King,  and  Marmion  is  hurried  off  to 
Tantallon  Castle,  under  conduct  of  the  owner  of  that 
stronghold,  Douglas,  Earl  of  Angus,  known  as  Archi- 
bald Bell-the-Cat.  Tantallon  is  on  the  north  coast  of 
Haddingtonshire,  near  the  town  of  North  Berwick.  The 
ruins  still  remain, 

Broad,  massive,  high,  and  stretching  far. 
60 


MARMION 

They  stand  on  a  high,  projecting  rock,  guarded  on  three 
sides  by  the  ocean,  while  on  the  land  side  the  remnant 
of  the '  double  mound  and  fosse '  may  still  be  seen.  The 
castle  was  a  favourite  residence  of  the  Douglas  family, 
though  its  fame  owes  less  to  history  than  to  the  genius  of 
Sir  Walter.  It  was  here  that  Marmion  dared 

To  beard  the  lion  in  his  den 
The  Douglas  in  his  hall,  — 

and  in  defiance  of  Lord  Angus  gave  utterance  to  one  of 
those  dramatic  passages  which  have  made  the  poem 
linger  so  long  in  the  memory  of  all  its  readers.  This  is 
one  of  the  chief  characteristics  of  Scott's  poetry,  that 
certain  lines  will  insist  upon  '  running  in  one's  head.' 
George  Ellis  pointed  out  the  significant  fact  that '  every- 
body reads  Marmion  more  than  once'  and  that  it  im- 
proves on  second  reading.  Perhaps  this  is  why  so 
many  people  can  quote  freely  from  the  poem,  particular- 
ly such  passages  as  the  quarrel  of  Marmion  andDouglas. 
From  Tantallon,  Marmion  and  his  men,  with  the  Lady 
Clare,  proceed  to  Flodden  Field,  reaching  at  eve  the 
convent  of  Lennel  where  'now  is  left  but  one  frail  arch.' 
This  resting  place  is  on  the  river  Tweed  just  below  the 
town  of  Coldstream  and  not  far  from  the  famous  ford  at 
the  mouth  of  the  river  Leet,  used  by  Edward  I  in  the 
invasion  of  Scotland  near  the  close  of  the  thirteenth  cen- 
tury and  by  the  contending  armies  of  England  and  Scot- 
land for  nearly  four  hundred  years  afterward.  Over  this 
ford  Marmion  rushes  impetuously  to  throw  himself 
into  the  thick  of  the  battle. 

Then  on  that  dangerous  ford  and  deep 
Where  to  the  Tweed  Leet's  eddies  creep 
He  ventured  desperately: 

6ij 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

And  not  a  moment  will  he  bide 
Till  squire  or  groom  before  him  ride; 
Headmost  of  all  he  stems  the  tide, 
And  stems  it  gallantly. 

Sir  Walter  wrote  this  passage,  and  many  more  like  it, 
from  experience,  for  it  was  one  of  his  chief  delights  to 
ford  a  stream.  James  Skene  said  he  believed  there  was 
not  a  single  ford  in  the  whole  course  of  the  Tweed  that 
he  and  Scott  had  not  traversed  together.  'He  had  an 
amazing  fondness  for  fords,  and  was  not  a  little  adventur- 
ous in  plunging  through,  whatever  might  be  the  state  of 
the  flood,  and  this  even  though  there  happened  to  be  a 
bridge  in  view.  If  it  seemed  possible  to  scramble  through, 
he  scorned  to  go  ten  yards  about,  and  in  fact  preferred 
the  ford.'  There  was  a  ford  at  Ashestiel  that  was  never 
a  good  one.  At  one  time,  after  a  severe  storm,  it  became 
quite  perilous.  Scott  was  the  first  to  attempt  the  pas- 
sage, which  he  accomplished  in  safety,  thanks  to  his 
steady  nerve  and  good  horsemanship,  for  his  favourite 
black  horse.  Captain,  was  obliged  to  swim  nearly  the 
whole  distance  across. 

Many  of  the  landmarks  of  Flodden  Field  may  still  be 
seen.  The  Twisel  Bridge  over  which  the  Enghsh  crossed 
the  Till ;  Ford  Castle,  the  residence  of  Sir  William  Heron, 
whom  Scott  transfers  to  Norham,  changing  his  name  to 
Hugh;  Etal  Castle,  which  with  Ford,  Norham,  and 
Wark  was  captured  by  King  James;  a  remnant  of  the 
old  cross  in  the  field  where  Marmion  died;  the  well  of 
Sybil  Grey,  a  spring  running  into  a  small  stone  basin, 
upon  which  has  been  cut  an  inscription  something  like 
that  referred  to  in  the  poem;  and  'Marmion's  well'  at 
the  edge  of  the  village  of  Branxton,  which  the  local 

6a 


MARMION 

inhabitants  are  certain  is  the  real  spring  where  Clare 
filled  Marmion's  helm  with  the  cooling  water,  —  all 
these  are  easily  visited  in  a  day's  drive.  On  the  summit 
of  Piper's  Hill  a  monument  has  been  erected,  marking 
the  spot  where  King  James  fell. 

The  King  failed  to  heed  the  warning  given  in  Linlith- 
gow. He  insisted  upon  going  to  war  and  wasted  too 
much  precious  time  with  the  Lady  Heron.  As  a  result 
he  seemed  to  do  everything  that  a  good  general  would 
not  have  done  and  he  failed  to  do  all  that  a  competent 
leader  would  have  done.  The  poet  gives  full  vent  to  his 
righteous  indignation:  — 

And  why  stands  Scotland  idly  now, 
Dark  Flodden!  on  thy  airy  brow, 
Since  England  gains  the  pass  the  while, 
And  struggles  through  the  deep  defile? 
What  checks  the  fiery  soul  of  James? 
Why  sits  that  champion  of  the  dames 
Inactive  on  his  steed? 


O  Douglas,  for  thy  leading  wand! 
Fierce  Randolph  for  thy  speed! 
Oh!  for  one  hour  of  Wallace  wight, 
Or  well-skilled  Bruce,  to  rule  the  fight 
And  cry,  'Saint  Andrew  and  our  right!' 
Another  sight  had  seen  that  morn, 
From  Fate's  dark  book  a  leaf  been  torn, 
And  Flodden  had  been  Bannockbourne. 

The  King  fell,  bravely  fighting,  it  is  said,  within  a 
lance's  length  of  the  Earl  of  Surrey.  The  noblest  of  the 
Scottish  army  lay  dead  and  dying  about  the  field.  Never 
before  in  Scottish  history  had  there  been  so  great  a  dis- 
aster as  that 

Of  Flodden's  fatal  field 
Where  shivered  was  fair  Scotland's  spear 
And  broken  was  her  shield! 

03 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

Richard  H.  Hutton  thinks  that  Scott's  description  of 
war  in  this  account  is  perhaps  the  most  perfect  which 
the  English  language  contains,  and  that  '  Marmion '  is 
Scott's  finest  poem.  *  The  Battle  of  Flodden  Field/  he 
says, '  touches  his  highest  point  in  its  expression  of  stem, 
patriotic  feeling,  in  its  passionate  love  of  daring,  and  in 
the  force  and  swiftness  of  its  movement,  no  less  than  in 
the  briUiancy  of  its  romantic  interests,  the  charm  of  its 
picturesque  detail,  and  the  glow  of  its  scenic  colouring.' 

Lockhart,  whose  judgment  must  always  be  regarded, 
also  believed  'Marmion'  to  be  the  greatest  of  Scott's 
poems,  because  of  its  'superior  strength  and  breadth 
and  boldness  both  of  conception  and  execution.'  It  has 
been  severely  criticized.  That  Marmion,  a  knight  of 
many  noble  qualities,  should  have  been  guilty  of  the 
contemptible  crime  of  forgery,  is  a  blot  which  Scott 
himself  acknowledged.  Mr.  Andrew  Lang  thinks  that 
'our  age  could  easUy  dispense  with  Clara  and  her  lover.' 
George  Ellis,  on  the  contrary,  thought  it  too  short,  that 
'the  masterly  character  of  Constance  would  not  have 
been  less  bewitching  had  it  been  much  more  minutely 
painted  —  and  that  De  Wilton  might  have  been  dilated 
with  great  ease  and  even  to  considerable  advantage.' 
Lord  Jeffrey  denoimced  it  in  characteristic  fashion  as 
an  'imitation  of  obsolete  extravagance.'  Such  a  thing, 
he  thought,  might  be  excused  for  once  as  a  'pretty 
caprice  of  genius,'  but  a  second  production  imposed  'a 
sort  of  duty  to  drive  the  author  from  so  idle  a  task.' 

But  Jeffrey's  crabbed  remarks  were  universally  con- 
demned as  unjust  and  the  public  responded  to  'Mar- 
mion '  with  enthusiasm.  Scott  had  painted  a  picture  full 
of  lofty  patriotism  and  glowing  with  life  and  colour. 

64 


MARMION 

He  had  glorified  his  native  city  with  a  fervour  that  went 
straight  to  the  hearts  of  its  people.  The  bravery  of  the 
Scottish  troops  as  they  rallied  around  their  king  and 
fought  to  the  bitter  end  seemed  to  turn  the  worst  disas- 
ter in  their  history  into  a  scene  of  which  every  Scotch- 
man might  well  be  proud.  The  great  chieftains  of  Scot- 
land had  been  exalted.  The  hills  and  mountains,  the 
rivers  and  brooks,  and  all  the  delightful  scenes  of  the 
southern  border  had  been  painted  in  charming  colours. 
And  so  the  poet  had  touched  the  pride  of  his  countrymen 
and  if  there  were  faults  of  composition  or  of  diction  they 
saw  them  not. 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE  LADY   OF  THE   LAKE 

The  most  popular  of  all  Scott's  poems,  as  'The  Lady  of 
the  Lake'  has  proved  to  be,  is  in  reality  a  romantic 
story  set  to  music  and  staged  in  an  environment  of  won- 
drous natural  beauty.  It  is  like  an  open-air  play,  but 
with  this  advantage,  that  the  audience  seems  to  move 
continually  from  one  scene  of  beauty  to  another,  each 
more  entrancing  than  the  one  before.  You  may  travel 
from  Stirling  to  Loch  Katrine  and  from  the  Trossachs  to 
the  Braes  of  Balquhidder  and  all  the  time  feel  the  thrill 
of  the  poem,  which  seems  fairly  to  permeate  the  atmos- 
phere. It  is  full  of  incident,  and  there  is  never  a  dull 
moment  from  the  beginning  of  the  stag  hunt  in  the  soli- 
tudes of  Glenartney  to  the  final  scenes  of  generosity  and 
gratitude,  of  love  and  joyous  reunion,  in  the  King's 
Palace  of  Stirling  Castle.  The  characters  are  types, 
each  presenting  a  poetic  interest  of  his  own,  of  a  race  of 
men  famous  in  history  and  in  song  for  deeds  of  personal 
prowess,  for  skill  in  the  use  of  claymore  and  battle-axe, 
for  loyalty  to  friends,  for  bitter  resentment  of  wrongs,  for 
courage,  for  endurance,  for  hospitality,  for  love  of  music 
and  poetry,  for  strength  of  physique  and  for  picturesque 
personal  appearance  and  attire. 

The  speU  of  the  Wizard  of  the  North  came  upon  us  as 
we  entered  the  enchanted  land  and  his  whole  company 
of  players  appeared  as  if  by  magic.  In  the  centre  of  the 
group  there  seemed  to  be  the  figure  of  a  young  woman, 

66 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE 

pure,  beautiful,  and  good  —  yet  not  too  good  to  be 
human,  for  she  was  at  least  sensitive  to  the  admiring 
glances  of  a  certain  handsome,  well-built,  and  courteous 
stranger.  But  Ellen  Douglas  was  nevertheless  true  to 
her  accepted  lover,  faithful  to  her  father,  and  loyal  to 
her  own  ideals  of  truth  and  right. 

And  ne'er  did  Grecian  chisel  trace 
A  Nymph,  a  Naiad,  or  a  Grace 
Of  finer  form  or  lovelier  face. 


A  chieftain's  daughter  seemed  the  maid: 

Her  satin  snood,  her  silken  plaid. 

Her  golden  brooch,  such  birth  betrayed. 

And  seldom  was  a  snood  amid 

Such  wild,  luxuriant  ringlets  hid 

Whose  glossy  black  to  shame  might  bring 

The  pliunage  of  the  raven's  wing: 

And  seldom  o'er  a  breast  so  fair 

Mantled  a  plaid  with  modest  care, 

And  never  brooch  the  folds  combined 

Above  a  heart  more  good  and  kind. 

Grouped  about  the  maiden  were  the  figures  of  a  Low- 
land king,  a  Highland  chieftain,  a  stalwart  father,  and  a 
sturdy  lover.  The  fixst  two  presented  a  striking  con- 
trast. The  King,  disguised  as  a  hunter  in  Lincoln  green, 
with  a  bold  visage  upon  which  middle  age  had  not  yet 
quenched  the  fiery  vehemence  of  youth;  with  sturdy 
limbs  fitted  for  any  kind  of  active  sport  or  contest;  with 
stately  mien  and  ready  speech,  *in  phrase  of  gentlest 
courtesy';  jovial,  kindly,  even  gleeful  and  frolicsome  at 
times,  with  the  will  to  do  and  the  soul  to  dare,  made  a 
splendid  picture  as  he  stood  upon  the  Silver  Strand,  face 
to  face  with  Ellen  Douglas.  Far  different  was  the  sullen 
visage  of  Roderick  Dhu,  as 

67 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

Twice  through  the  hall  the  Chieftain  strode: 
The  waving  of  his  tartan  broad, 
And  darkened  brow,  where  wounded  pride 
With  ire  and  disappointment  vied, 
Seemed,  by  the  torch's  gloomy  light, 
Like  the  ill  Demon  of  the  night. 

Yet  in  spite  of  the  fierce  aspect  of  this  terrible  chief, 
one  cannot  withhold  his  admiration,  and  we  feel  Uke 
echoing  the  shout  of  enthusiasm  of  the  cheering  boatmen 
as  they  approach  the  island,  singing,  — 

Loud  should  Clan-Alpine  then 
Ring  from  her  deepmost  glen, 
Roderigh  Vich  Alpine  dhu,  ho!  ieroe! 

When  Roderick  scorns  to  take  advantage  of  Fitz- James, 
though  the  latter  is  in  his  power,  and  shares  with  him  his 
camp-fire,  his  supper,  and  his  bed,  finally  conducting 
him  in  safety  through  hundreds  of  hostile  Highlanders 
to  the  very  limits  of  Clan-Alpine's  territory,  there  to 
battle  single-handed  and  on  equal  terms,  we  begin  to  feel 
what  real  Highland  hospitaUty  and  chivalry  mean  and  to 
realize  the  true  nobility  of  character  beneath  the  rough 
exterior  of  this  stem  soldier. 

Ellen's  father,  the  exiled  Douglas,  was  a  giant  in 
stature  who  could  wield  as  lightly  as  a  hazel  wand  a 
sword  which  other  men  could  scarcely  lift. 

The  women  praised  his  stately  form. 
Though  wrecked  by  many  a  winter's  storm; 
The  youth  with  awe  and  wonder  saw 
His  strength  surpassing  Nature's  law. 

Contrasting  with  this  fine  old  man  was  Malcolm  Graeme, 
Ellen's  lover:  — 

Of  stature  fair,  and  slender  frame 
But  firmly  knit  was  Malcolm  Graeme. 

68 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE 

The  belted  plaid  and  tartan  hose 
Did  ne'er  more  graceful  limbs  disclose; 
His  flaxen  hair,  of  sunny  hue, 
Curled  closely  roimd  the  bonnet  blue. 

His  mind  was  'lively  and  ardent,  frank  and  kind,'  and 
he  had  a  scorn  of  wrong  and  a  zeal  for  truth  that  prom- 
ised to  make  his  name  one  of  the  greatest  in  the  moun- 
tains. But  poor  Malcolm  was  to  the  poet's  mind  not  an 
artistic  success.  The  latter  confessed  that  he  compelled 
him  to  swim  from  Ellen's  Isle  to  the  shore  merely  to  give 
him  something  to  do,  but  'wet  or  dry,'  he  said,  *I  could 
do  nothing  with  him.' 

Behind  these  five  figures  we  could  fancy  a  white- 
haired  minstrel,  harp  in  hand;  a  hermit  monk,  in  frock 
and  hood,  barefooted,  with  grizzled  hair  and  matted 
beard,  naked  arms  and  legs  seamed  with  scars,  and  a  wild 
and  savage  face  that  spoke  of  nothing  but  despair;  three 
young  men  in  kilt  skirts  and  Highland  plaids,  every 
movement  showing  the  agile  strength  of  their  youthful 
limbs,  passing  from  one  to  another  a  cross  of  fire,  — 
Malise,  Angus,  and  Norman,  the  messengers  who  sum- 
moned the  clans  to  battle;  and  back  of  all,  filling  up  the 
picture,  Highlanders  of  high  and  low  degree,  men, 
women,  and  children,  all  fired  with  intense  loyalty  to  the 
Clan-Alpine.  The  whole  picture  seemed  to  project  itself 
upon  a  background  of  mountains  and  valleys,  lakes, 
rivers  and  waterfalls,  fantastic  rocks  and  weather- 
beaten  crags,  grey  birches  and  warrior  oaks,  ferns  and 
wild  flowers,  all 

So  wondrous  wild,  the  whole  might  seem 
The  scenery  of  a  fairy  dream. 

Scott  was  always  fond  of  brilliant  hues,  but  here  he 

fairly  revels  in  colour:  — 

69 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

The  western  waves  of  ebbing  day 
Rolled  o'er  the  glen  their  level  way: 
Each  purple  peak,  each  flinty  spire, 
Was  bathed  in  floods  of  living  fire. 
•        ••••>••• 

All  twinkling  with  the  dew-drop  sheen, 
The  brier  rose  fell  in  streamers  green 
And  creeping  shrubs  of  thousand  dyes 
Waved  in  the  west  wind's  summer  sighs. 

Boon  nature  scattered,  free  and  wild, 
Each  plant  or  flower,  the  mountain's  child, 
Here  eglantine  embalmed  the  air, 
Hawthorn  and  hazel  mingled  there: 
The  primrose  pale  and  violet  flower 
Found  in  each  clift  a  narrow  bower. 

The  best  way  to  read  'The  Lady  of  the  Lake'  is  to  see 
the  Trossachs;  the  best  way  to  see  the  Trossachs  is  to 
read  'The  Lady  of  the  Lake.'  There  is  a  peculiar  aflinity 
between  the  poem  and  the  country  that  makes  each 
indispensable  to  the  other.  Those  who  read  the  poem 
without  some  knowledge  of  the  scenery  are  likely  to 
have  an  inadequate  conception  of  its  real  significance,  or 
f)ossibly  to  feel  that  the  poet  has  painted  in  colours  too 
vivid  and  that  his  enthusiasm  is  not  perhaps  fully  justi- 
fied by  the  facts.  Those  who  see  the  Trossachs  without 
reading  the  poem  are  apt  to  say,  as  one  man  did  say  to 
me,  'Yes,  this  is  beautiful,  but  after  all  I  have  seen  just 
such  roads  in  New  Hampshire.'  He  might  have  added, 
'  The  Rocky  Mountains  are  much  higher  and  more  sub- 
lime, and  the  Italian  lakes  reflect  a  sky  of  more  brilliant 
blue  and  are  bordered  by  foliage  infinitely  more  gorgeous 
in  its  colourings,'  —  all  of  which  is  true.  But  when  you 
come  to  read  the  poem  with  a  mental  vision  of  the  Tros- 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE 

sachs  before  you  and  to  see  the  Trossachs  with  the 
exquisite  descriptions  of  the  poem  fully  in  mind,  each 
acquires  a  new  charm  which  alone  it  did  not  possess. 

Before  the  poem  was  written  the  Trossachs  were 
scarcely  known  and  Loch  Katrine  was  no  more  than  any 
other  Highland  lake.  Now  these  regions  are  visited 
yearly  by  thousands  of  tourists  and  to  those  who  know 
the  poem,  every  turn  in  the  road  seems  to  suggest  some 
favourite  stanza.  To  us  the  tour  was  one  of  unfailing 
delight  and  productive  of  mental  visions  that  will  never 
fade.  The  Brig  o'  Turk  is  to  me  not  merely  an  old  stone 
bridge  over  a  placid  rivulet;  but,  rushing  over  it  at  full 
speed,  eagerly  spurring  his  fine  grey  horse  to  further 
effort,  I.  see  the  figure  of  a  gallant  hunter  clad  in  a  close- 
fitting  suit  of  green,  his  eyes  intently  fixed  on  the  road 
ahead,  where  a  splendid  stag,  now  nearly  exhausted,  is 
straining  his  last  ounce  of  energy  in  a  final  effort  to  dis- 
tance the  pursuing  hounds.  To  me  the  low  ground  on 
the  edge  of  Loch  Vennachar,  known  as  Lanrick  Mead, 
appears  like  a  military  camp,  with  great  crowds  of  giant 
clansmen,  in  Highland  kilts  and  plaids  of  many  colours, 
their  spears  and  battle-axes  glistening  in  the  sun.  The 
aged  oak,  bending  over  the  water's  edge  on  Ellen's  Isle, 
is  not  merely  an  old  dead  tree,  but  it  brings  the  vision  of 
Ellen  Douglas  putting  forth  in  her  frail  shallop  to  answer 
(as  she  supposes)  the  bugle  call  of  her  noble  father  from 
the  Silver  Strand. 

This  is  the  secret  charm  of  the  Trossachs.  The  tourist 
who  goes  through,  as  many  do,  with  whole-hearted  devo- 
tion to  the  rime-table  and  guide-book,  and  whose  mind  is 
fixed  upon  the  absolute  necessity  of  'making'  all  the 
points  in  his  itinerary,  does  not  see  these  scenes  any 

71 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

more  than  do  the  horses  who  draw  the  lumbering  coaches. 
The  more  leisurely  traveller  who  can  follow  the  course  of 
the  poem,  viewing  each  scene  as  Scott  has  so  charmingly 
described  it,  finds  exhilaration  and  delight  in  every  step 
of  the  way. 

Scott  was  only  fifteen  when  he  began  to  make  those 
merry  expeditions  to  the  Highlands  in  the  company  of 
congenial  companions  which  gave  him  so  much  material 
of  the  right  kind  as  to  make  a  poem  inevitable.  He 
learned  to  know  the  strange  but  romantic  Highland 
clansmen;  he  heard  many  tales  and  bits  of  history  which 
his  memory  stored  up  for  the  future,  and  the  rare  beauty 
of  the  scenery  fascinated  him  as  it  does  every  one  else. 
'This  poem,'  he  said,  'the  action  of  which  lay  among 
scenes  so  beautiful  and  so  deeply  imprinted  on  my  recol- 
lections, was  a  labour  of  love  and  it  was  no  less  so  to 
recall  the  memories  and  incidents  introduced.' 

In  one  of  these  excursions  (in  1793),  he  visited  the 
home  of  the  young  Laird  of  Cambusmore,  John  Bucha- 
nan, one  of  his  associates,  and  subsequently  revisited 
the  place  many  times.  Cambusmore  is  a  charming 
estate  about  two  miles  southeast  of  Callander.  Entering 
by  the  porter's  gate,  we  drove  through  a  beautiful  wind- 
ing road,  lined  with  rhododendrons.  The  shrubs,  or 
rather  trees  (for  their  extraordinary  height  and  wide- 
spreading  branches  entitle  them  to  the  more  dignified 
name),  were  in  full  bloom,  thousands  of  great,  splendid 
clusters  vying  with  each  other  to  see  which  could  catch 
and  reflect  the  most  sunlight.  Here  we  were  hospitably 
received  by  the  present  owner,  Mrs.  Hamilton,  a  great- 
granddaughter  of  Scott's  friend,  John  Buchanan.  The 
house  has  been  considerably  enlarged,  but  the  older  por- 

72 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE 

tion,  thickly  covered  with  ivy,  is  very  much  as.it  was 
when  Scott  was  a  guest  and  sat  on  the  porch,  listening  to 
the  story  of  Buchanan's  ancestors.  While  he  was  writ- 
ing 'The  Lady  of  the  Lake,'  Scott  revisited  Cambusmore 
and  recited  parts  of  the  poem  to  Mrs.Hamilton's  grand- 
father. He  also  demonstrated,  by  actually  performing 
the  feat  himself,  that  it  would  be  possible  for  a  horseman 
to  ride  from  the  foot  of  Loch  Vennachar  to  Stirling  Cas- 
tle in  the  time  allotted  to  Fitz- James. 

From  the  road  in  front  of  this  mansion,  far  away  to  the 
north,  but  faintly  visible  through  the  trees,  we  could  see 
the  'wild  heaths  of  Uam  Var,'  where  the  stag  first  sought 
refuge  when,  driven  by  the  deep  baying  of  the  hounds,  he 
left  the  cool  shades  of  Glenartney's  hazel  woods.  From 
another  side  we  caught  a  fine  glimpse  of  what  the  hunts- 
men saw 

When  rose  Ben  Ledi's  ridge  in  air. 

These  hills  of  Scotland  have  witnessed  many  a  hunt 
where  scores  of  men  dashed  wildly  after  the  frightened 
game.  But  no  stag,  ever  before  or  since,  has  been  pur- 
sued by  so  many  eager  hunters  as  the  creature  of  Scott's 
fancy.  We  joined  in  the  hunt,  as  all  tourists  are  supposed 
to  do,  provided  they  have  the  time,  which  many,  espe- 
cially Americans,  have  not,  for  as  one  Scotchman  put  it, 
'  they  go  through  so  fast,  sir,  that  you  could  set  a  tea- 
table  on  their  coat-tails,  sir.' 

We  saw  'the  varied  realms  of  fair  Menteith,'  a  lovely 
little  lake  with  irregular  shores  and  studded  with  bright 
green  islands.  I  remember  I  had  to  walk  a  long  way  over 
a  lonely  heath  to  get  my  picture  of  the  lake,  and  that  I 
was  closely  followed  by  a  large  flock  of  angry  plovers 

73 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

who  feared  that  I  might  harm  their  nests.  They  flew 
so  close  that  I  had  to  keep  one  arm  above  my  head  for 
defence,  and  all  the  time  they  were  screaming  vocifer- 
ously. 

We  visited  'far  Loch  Ard'  and  Aberfoyle,  both  asso- 
ciated more  closely  with  Rob  Roy.  We  found 

the  copsewood  grey 
That  waved  and  wept  on  Loch  Achray; 

and  climbed  up  among 

the  pine  trees  blue 
On  the  bold  cliffs  of  Ben  Venue. 

We  passed  along  'Bocastle's  heath'  and  reached  the 
shores  of  Loch  Vennachar,  more  fortunate  than  the 
himtsmen  of  the  poem,  most  of  whom  gave  up  from  sheer 
exhaustion  before  they  reached  that  place.  For, 

when  the  Brig  o'  Turk  was  won, 
The  headmost  horseman  rode  alone. 

This  picturesque  old  stone  bridge,  spanning  the  little 
stream  that  waters  the  valley  of  Glen  Finglas,  is  the 
entrance  to  the  Trossachs,  a  region,  as  the  name  implies, 
of  wild  and  rugged  beauty. 

Alone,  but  with  unbated  zeal. 
That  horseman  plied  the  scourge  and  steel; 
For  jaded  now,  and  spent  with  toil, 
Embossed  with  foam,  and  dark  with  soil, 
While  every  gasp  with  sobs  he  drew, 
The  labouring  stag  strained  full  in  view. 

Thus  the  race  went  along  the  shore  of  Loch  Achray  until 
they  reached  the  dense  woods  that  lie  between  this  little 
lake  and  Loch  Katrine.  Then  just  as  the  hunter,  — 

Already  glorying  in  the  prize, 
Measiured  his  antlers  with  his  eyes, 

74 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE 

the  wily  stag  dashed  suddenly  down  a  darksome  glen 
and  disappeared 

In  the  deep  Trossach's  wildest  nook. 

The  place  thus  indicated  may  be  reached  by  leaving 
the  fine  wagon  road  and  walking  up  the  hill  on  the  right 
by  a  path  that  leads  along  a  little  rill  to  a  dense  thicket, 
over  which  hang  some  rugged  cliffs.  We  spent  a  pleasant 
Sunday  afternoon  exploring  the  dark  ravines,  — 

Where  twined  the  path  in  shadow  hid, 
Round  many  a  rocky  pyramid, 
Shooting  abruptly  from  the  dell 
Its  thunder-splintered  pinnacle. 

This  is  one  of  the  most  delightful  spots  in  the  Trossachs, 
though  never  seen  by  the  thousands  who  whirl  through 
all  this  enchanted  land  in  a  single  day,  packed  five  or 
six  in  a  seat  on  a  jolting  coach,  breathing  the  dust  of 
the  road  and  frittering  away  their  golden  opportunity 
in  idle  chatter.  You  cannot  catch  the  spirit  of  this  wild 
and  rugged  region  unless  you  walk  into  the  unfre- 
quented parts  and  see  the  'native  bulwarks  of  the  pass/ 

where 

The  rocky  summits,  split  and  rent, 
Formed  turret,  dome,  or  battlement, 
Or  seemed  fantastically  set 
With  cupola  or  minaret. 

Here  Fitz- James  found  himself  alone  and  on  foot,  for 
his  good  grey  horse  had  fallen,  exhausted,  never  to  rise 
again.  Marvelling  at  the  beauty  of  the  scene,  he  wan- 
dered on,  until,  seeing  no  pathway  by  which  to  issue 
from  the  glen,  he  climbed  a  '  far-projecting  precipice ' ; 
when  suddenly  there  burst  upon  his  sight  the  grandest 
view  of  all,  Loch  Katrine,  — 

75 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

gleaming  with  the  setting  sun 
One  burnished  sheet  of  Uving  gold. 

As  sentinels  guarding  an  enchanted  land,  two  moun- 
tains stood  like  giants:  on  the  south  rose  Ben  Venue,  its 
sides  strewn  with  rough  volcanic  rocks  and  its  summit '  a 
wildering  forest  feathered  o'er':  on  the  north  'Ben  An 
heaved  high  his  forehead  bare.' 

The  stranger  stood  enraptured  and  amazed.  Then, 
thinking  to  call  some  straggler  of  his  train,  he  blew  a 
loud  blast  upon  his  horn.  To  his  great  surprise  the  sound 
was  answered  by  a  little  skiff  which  glided  forth 

From  imdemeath  an  aged  oak 
That  slanted  from  the  islet's  rock. 

The  old  oak  was  the  supposed  landing  place  of  Ellen 
Douglas  on  what  has  since  been  known  as  'Ellen's  Isle.' 
The  oak,  old  in  Scott's  day,  is  dead  now,  but  singularly 
enough  it  died  not  of  old  age  but  by  drowning.  Loch 
Katrine  is  now  the  reservoir  that  supplies  the  city  of 
Glasgow.  In  preparing  it  for  this  service  the  engineers 
raised  the  level  of  the  lake  about  twenty-five  feet,  creat- 
ing many  new  islands  to  keep  the  '  lone  islet '  company, 
and  completely  submerging  the  '  Silver  Strand '  so  often 
mentioned  in  the  poem.  But  the  beauty  of  the  lake  has 
not  been  marred,  and  the  scenes,  though  changed,  are 
still  as  lovely  as  when  they  aroused  the  poetic  fervour 
of  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

The  visitor  who  takes  the  trouble,  as  we  did,  to  row 
out  to  Ellen's  Isle,  will  find  nothing  to  suggest  the  im- 
agined home  of  Roderick  Dhu  and  the  temporary  shelter 
of  the  Douglas  and  his  daughter.  But  he  will  have  an 
excellent  opportunity  to  indulge  his  fancy  and  call  back 

76 


GLENFINGLAS 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE 

to  memory  the  stirring  incidents  which  served  to  bring 
together  all  the  leading  people  of  the  tale.  He  may  stand 
on  the  shore  of  the  island  and  see  the  barges,  filled  with 
the  warriors  of  Roderick  Dhu,  bearing  down  upon  him, 
their  spears,  pikes,  and  axes  flashing  and  their  banners, 
plaids,  and  plumage  dancing  in  the  air.  He  may  hear 
the  sound  of  the  war-pipes  and  the  chorus  of  the  clans- 
men as  they  shout  their  chieftain's  praise.  Then,  as  the 
storm  of  war  rises  higher  and  higher,  he  may  fancy  Brian 
the  Hermit  with  wild  incantations  calling  the  clans  to 
battle  and  uttering  a  terrible  curse  upon  any  who  failed 
to  heed  the  summons.  He  may  see  the  fiery  Cross  placed 
in  the  hands  of  the  young  Malise,  and  watch  the  fleet 
messenger  as  he  crosses  the  lake  to  the  Silver  Strand 
where  he  lightly  bounds  ashore.  Then,  if  he  be  a  real 
enthusiast,  he  may  follow  the  course  of  the  fiery  cross. 
Malise  carried  it  through  the  Trossachs,  and  along  the 
shore  of  Loch  Achray  to  the  hamlet  of  Duncraggan,  just 
beyond  the  Brig  o'  Turk,  and  in  sight  of  Lanrick  Mead, 
the  gathering-place  of  the  clans.  Then  young  Angus,  the 
stripling  son  of  Duncan,  seized  the  fatal  symbol,  and 
hurried  over  the  mountains,  crossing  the  southern  slopes 
of  Ben  Ledi,  until,  reaching  the  river  Leny  at  the  outlet 
of  Loch  Lubnaig,  he  swam  the  stream,  and  after  a  des- 
perate struggle  with  the  swollen  torrent,  reached  the 
opposite  bank  at  the  chapel  of  St.  Bride.  No  chapel 
now  exists,  but  a  stone  wall  marks  the  site  where  the 
little  church  once  stood,  and  within  the  enclosure  is  a 
single  grave.  As  Angus  arrived,  a  little  wedding  party 
was  issuing  from  the  churchyard  gate.  The  dreadful 
sign  of  fire  and  sword  was  thrust  into  the  hands  of  Nor- 
man, the  bridegroom,  and  the  command  given  to  'speed 

77 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

forth  the  signal.'  Not  daring  to  look  a  second  time  upon 
the  tearful  face  of  his  lovely  bride,  Norman  manfully 
seized  the  torch  and  hurried  to  the  north.  He  followed 
the  shores  of  Loch  Lubnaig  and  the  swampy  course  of 
the  river  Balvaig,  then,  turning  sharply  to  the  left, 
entered  the  Braes  of  Balquhidder  and  passed  along  the 
northern  shores  of  Loch  Voil  and  Loch  Doine,  two  lovely 
little  Highland  lakes  that  lie  hidden  away  in  the  solitude 
of  the  hiUs.  Thence,  turning  to  the  south,  he  crossed  the 
intervening  mountains  imtil  he  came  to  the  valley  of 
Strathgartney  on  the  northern  shore  of  Loch  Katrine. 

The  scene  now  changes  to  the  slopes  of  Ben  Venue,  a 
rugged  moimtain  peak,  towering  high  above  the  south- 
eastern end  of  Loch  Katrine  and  dominating  the  entire 
region  of  the  Trossachs.  On  the  side  nearest  the  lake  is  a 
confused  mass  of  huge  volcanic  rocks  overhung  here  and 
there  by  scraggly  oaks  or  birches.  Ancient  Celtic  tradi- 
tion assigned  this  wild  spot  to  the  Urisk  or  shaggy  men 
whose  form  was  part  man,  part  goat,  like  the  satyrs  of 
Greek  mythology.  In  later  times  the  Celtic  name  of  Coir- 
nan-Uriskin  gave  way  to  the  more  euphonious  title  of  the 
Goblin  Cave.  To  this  'wild  and  strange  retreat,'  fit 
only  for  wolves  and  wild-cats,  Douglas  brought  his 
daughter  for  safety.  Roderick  Dhu,  hovering  about  the 
place  like  a  restless  ghost,  heard  the  soft  voice  of  Ellen, 
singing  her  'Hymn  to  the  Virgin.'  Then,  goaded  by  the 
thought  that  he  should  never  hear  that  angel  voice  again, 
the  chieftain  strode  sullenly  down  the  mountain-side, 
and  crossing  the  lake  soon  rejoined  his  men  at  Lanrick 
Mead. 

In  the  night  Douglas  silently  departed,  resolved  to  go 
to  Stirling  Castle  and  give  his  life  as  a  ransom  for  his 

78 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE 

daughter  and  his  friends.  In  the  morning  Fitz- James 
found  the  retreat  of  Ellen  and  offered  to  carry  her  away 
in  safety.  But  Ellen  in  simple  confidence  told  of  her  love 
for  Malcolm  Graeme,  and  warned  the  knight  that  his 
life  was  in  danger  from  his  treacherous  guide.  Fitz- 
James  then  gave  a  signet  ring  to  Ellen,  telling  her  to 
present  it  to  the  King,  who  would  redeem  it  by  granting 
whatever  she  might  ask.  The  wanderer  then  went  on 
his  way,  passing  through  the  Trossachs  again,  where  he 
met  the  half-crazed  maid,  Blanche  of  Devon.  The  poet 
actually  saw  the  original  of  this  strange  character  in  the 
Pass  of  Glencoe.  *  This  poor  woman, '  he  says, '  had  placed 
herself  in  the  wildest  attitude  imaginable  upon  the  very 
top  of  a  huge  fragment  of  rock :  she  had  scarce  any  cover- 
ing but  a  tattered  plaid,  which  left  her  arms,  legs,  and 
neck  bare  to  the  weather.  Her  long  shaggy  black  hair 
was  streaming  backwards  in  the  wind  and  exposed  a  face 
rather  wild  and  wasted  than  ugly,  and  bearing  a  very 
peculiar  expression  of  frenzy.  She  had  a  handful  of  eagle 
feathers  in  her  hand.' 

Following  the  dramatic  death  of  Blanche  and  the 
swift  justice  to  her  murderer,  the  treacherous  guide 
Murdoch,  comes  the  well-remembered  meeting  of  Fitz- 
James  and  Roderick  Dhu.  Clan-Alpine's  chief  extended 
to  his  enemy  the  hospitality  of  *  a  soldier's  couch,  a  sol- 
dier's fare,'  and  conducted  him  safely  through  countless 
hordes  of  his  own  men  concealed  behind  every  bush  and 
stone  until  they  reached  the  ford  of  Coilantogle,  at  the 
extreme  limit  of  the  Highland  chief's  territory.  The 
place  is  at  the  outlet  of  Loch  Vennachar,  about  two 
miles  west  of  Callander,  and  is  readily  seen  from  the 
main  road  to  the  Trossachs.  Here  occurred  the  terrific 

79 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

combat,  so  vividly  painted  by  the  poet,  and  Roderick 
was  left  upon  the  field,  severely  wounded,  a  prisoner  in 
the  hands  of  Fitz- James's  men,  who  had  responded  to 
the  bugle  call  of  their  leader.  The  latter,  accompanied 
by  two  of  his  knights,  rode  rapidly  along  the  shores  of  the 
Forth.  They  passed  'the  bannered  towers  of  Doune,' 
now  a  ruin,  which  makes  a  pretty  picture  seen  in  the 
distance  from  the  bridge  over  the  river.  Pressing  on, 
they  were  soon  in  sight  of  Stirling  Castle,  when  Fitz- 
James  saw  a  woodsman '  of  stature  tall  and  poor  array,* 
and  at  once  recognized  'the  stately  form  and  step'  of 
Douglas. 

Cambus  Kenneth,  from  which  Douglas  had  just  come, 
is  a  tall  square  tower  on  the  banks  of  the  Forth,  west  of 
Stirling.  It  was  once  a  large  abbey,  founded  in  the 
twelfth  century  and  built  on  the  site  of  the  battle-field, 
where  the  Scots  imder  Kenneth  MacAlpine  defeated  the 
Picts.  The  tower  is  all  that  now  remains,  but  the  founda- 
tions of  some  of  the  walls  show  the  great  extent  of  the 
structure.  Amid  the  ruins  is  the  grave  of  King  James  III, 
over  which  is  a  monument  erected  by  Queen  Victoria. 
It  is  supposed  to  be  in  exactly  the  place  where  King 
James  was  buried,  under  the  high  altar,  but  is  so  far 
away  from  the  tower  as  to  indicate  that  the  original 
abbey  must  have  been  unusually  large. 

Next  to  Edinburgh  Castle,  Stirling  is  the  most  im- 
posing fortress  in  Scotland.  It  stands  on  a  rock  four 
hundred  and  twenty  feet  above  the  sea,  commanding  a 
fine  view  in  every  direction.  On  the  esplanade  is  a 
statue  of  King  Robert  the  Bruce.  The  figure  is  clad  in 
chain  armour  and  the  king  is  sheathing  his  sword,  satis- 
fied with  his  great  victory  as  he  gazes  toward  the  field  of 

So 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE 

Bannockburn.  Across  the  valley  on  the  Abbey  Craig, 
two  miles  away,  is  a  tall  tower  in  memory  of  that  other 
great  national  hero,  the  mention  of  whose  name  still 
brings  a  tingle  into  the  blood  of  the  loyal  Scotsman, 
William  Wallace.  The  castle  is  entered  by  a  gateway 
between  two  round  towers,  beneath  one  of  which  is  the 
dungeon  where  Roderick  Dhu  may  be  supposed  to  have 
been  carried  after  the  fatal  duel.  Here  one  may  fancy 
the  aged  minstrel  Allan-bane,  singing  to  the  dying  chief 
the  story  of  the  Battle  of  Beal'  an  Duine.  A  poem  that 
can  hold  the  attention  of  a  company  of  soldiers  when 
actually  under  fire  themselves  must  be  thrilling,  indeed; 
yet  this  test  was  successfully  applied  to  the  tale  as  Scott 
told  it  through  the  minstrel.  Sir  Adam  Ferguson  re- 
ceived the  poem  on  the  day  when  he  was  posted  with  his 
company  on  a  point  of  ground  exposed  to  the  enemy's 
artillery.  The  men  were  ordered  to  He  prostrate  on  the 
ground,  while  the  captain,  kneeling  at  their  head,  read 
the  description  of  the  battle.  The  soldiers  listened  atten- 
tively, only  interrupting  occasionally  with  a  loud  huzza, 
when  a  shot  struck  the  bank  just  above  their  heads. 

On  the  left  of  the  castle  gate  is  the  Royal  Palace, 
built  by  James  III  and  a  favourite  residence  of  James  IV 
and  James  V.  All  the  windows  have  heavy  iron  bars, 
making  the  palace  look  more  like  a  prison  than  a  king's 
mansion.  They  were  placed  there  for  the  protection  of 
the  infant  James  VI,  son  of  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots.  He 
was  born  in  Edinburgh  Castle;  but  considered  unsafe 
there,  he  was  lowered  over  the  walls  in  a  basket  and 
carried  to  Stirling  Castle.  Queen  Mary  had  lived  here 
for  four  years  in  her  childhood  and  it  was  here  that  she 
was  secretly  married  to  Damley.  Two  years  later,  on  a 

8x 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

visit  to  the  castle  to  see  her  son,  she  was  intercepted  by 
Bothwell  and  carried  away  to  Dunbar,  probably  with 
her  own  connivance,  where  a  month  later  the  two  were 
married.  James  VI,  afterward  James  I  of  England,  spent 
most  of  his  boyhood  here,  and  when  he  left  to  assume 
the  English  crown,  Stirling  ceased  to  be  a  royal  residence. 

Among  the  many  strange  and  much  mutilated  statues 
on  the  exterior  of  the  palace  is  one  representing  King 
James  V  as  the  *  Gudeman  of  Ballengeich.'  It  was  the 
custom  of  this  king,  as  it  had  been  of  his  father,  to  dis- 
guise himself  and  mingle  with  the  people,  thereby  find- 
ing rehef  from  the  strain  of  more  serious  affairs  and 
doubtless  learning  at  first  hand  what  the  people  thought 
of  him.  Their  opinions  must  have  been  favourable,  for 
the  King  enjoyed  the  experiences  and  the  intercourse 
was  always  friendly  and  often  amusing.  Once  on  a  hunt- 
ing expedition,  the  King  became  separated  from  the 
others  of  his  party  and  was  obliged  to  spend  the  night 
at  a  cottage  in  the  moorlands.  The  'gudeman,'  like  all 
true  Highlanders,  was  extremely  hospitable  to  the  stran- 
ger, and  ordered  the  'gude  wife,'  to  kill  for  supper  the 
plumpest  of  the  hens.  The  stranger,  departing  the  next 
morning,  invited  the  farmer  to  call  on  the  *  Gudeman  of 
Ballengeich'  when  he  next  visited  Stirling.  The  farmer 
soon  accepted  the  invitation  and  was  much  astonished 
to  find  himself  received  by  the  King,  who  enjoyed  his 
confusion  most  heartily  and  gave  him  the  facetious 
title,  'King  of  the  Moors.'  This  story  and  others  like 
it  gave  the  idea  to  Scott  which  he  so  skilfully  made 
the  basis  of  'The  Lady  of  the  Lake.' 

Another  gateway  leads  into  the  upper  court,  on  the 
right  of  which  is  the  old  Parliament  House,  where 

83 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE 

the  last  Scottish  Parliament  met.  At  the  north  end 

of  the  court  is  the  Chapel  Royal.  A  third  gateway  leads 

to  the  Douglas  Garden,  at  the  left  of  which  is  the 

Douglas  Room,  where  James  II  treacherously  stabbed 

the  Earl  of  Douglas.    The  latter  had  visited  the  castle 

under  a  safe-conduct  granted  by  the  King  himself.  The 

body  was  dragged  into  an  adjoining  room  and  thrown 

out  of  the  window.  Later  it  was  buried  just  where  it 

fell.   Scott  makes  James  Douglas  refer  to  the  incident 

as  he  sadly  returns  to  Stirling  to  surrender  himself  and 

die  for  his  family. 

Ye  towers,  within  those  circuit  dread 
A  Douglas  by  his  sovereign  bled. 

From  the  parapet  along  the  walls  of  this  garden,  built  on 
a  rock  three  hundred  feet  high,  a  splendid  landscape  may 
be  seen.  Down  below  appear  the  windings  of  the  river 
Forth  and  the  old  StirHng  Bridge,  known  as  the  'Key  to 
the  Highlands,'  the  only  bridge  across  the  Forth  during 
all  the  stirring  times  of  Scottish  history.  There  too  is 
the  'Heading  Hill'  to  which  Douglas  also  refers:  — 

And  thou,  O  sad  and  fatal  mound! 
Thou  oft  hast  heard  the  death-axe  sound, 
As  on  the  noblest  of  the  land 
Fell  the  stem  headsman's  bloody  hand. 

From  another  place  on  the  wall,  far  down  on  the  plain 
below,  we  could  see  the  King's  Knot,  a  curiously  shaped, 
octagonal  mound  of  great  antiquity,  near  the  base  of  the 
precipitous  rock  upon  which  the  castle  stands.  This 
plain,  so  easily  seen  from  the  castle,  was  the  place  where 
many  a  knightly  tournament  was  held,  and  it  was  to  this 
castle  park  that  Douglas  went  to  take  part  in  the  games, 
so  that 

83 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

King  James  shall  mark 
If  age  has  tamed  these  sinews  stark, 
Whose  force  so  oft  in  happier  days 
His  boyish  wonder  loved  to  praise. 

Here  was  held  the  archery  contest  where  Douglas  won 
the  silver  dart;  here  was  the  wrestling  match  where  he 
won  the  golden  ring;  here  his  brave  dog  Lufra  pulled 
down  the  royal  stag,  and  Douglas  knocked  senseless 
with  a  single  blow  the  groom  who  struck  his  noble 
hound;  and  from  here  Douglas  was  led  a  captive  into  the 
fortress. 

Meanwhile  Ellen  had  found  her  way  to  the  castle  deter- 
mined to  see  the  King  and  with  his  signet  ring  beg  the 
boon  of  her  father's  life.  She  learned  to  her  astonishment 
that  the  King  and  Fitz- James  were  one,  and  that  her 
suit  was  granted  before  it  was  asked,  for  the  genial  mon- 
arch announced  Lord  James  of  Douglas  as  *  a  friend  and 
bulwark  of  our  throne.' 

The  monarch  drank,  that  happy  hour, 
The  sweetest,  holiest  draught  of  Power,  — 
When  it  can  say  with  godlike  voice, 
Arise,  sad  Virtue,  and  rejoice! 

Then  Ellen  blushingly  craved,  through  her  father,  the 
pardon  of  her  lover,  and  the  King  in  jovial  mood  com- 
manded Malcolm  to  stand  forth,  exclaiming,  — 

'Fetters  and  warder  for  the  Graeme!' 
His  chain  of  gold  the  King  imstrung, 
The  links  o'er  Malcolm's  neck  he  flung, 
Then  gently  drew  the  glittering  band, 
And  laid  the  clasp  on  EUen's  hand. 

Looking  out  from  Stirling  Castle  over  the  delightful 
scenery  of  the  Scottish  Highlands,  made  a  hundred  times 
more  lovely  by  the  romantic  poem,  whose  magic  has 

84 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE 

seemed  to  touch  every  lake  and  river,  hill  and  valley, 
with  its  influence,  we  felt  a  strange  reluctance  to  leave 
the  scene,  akin  to  that  of  the  poet  himself  as  he  bids 
farewell  to  the  Harp  of  the  North:  — 

Hark!  as  my  lingering  footsteps  slow  retire, 
Some  Spirit  of  the  Air  has  waked  thy  string! 

'T  is  now  a  seraph  bold,  with  touch  of  fire, 
'T  is  now  the  brush  of  Fairy's  frolic  wing. 

Receding  now,  the  dying  numbers  ring 
Fainter  and  fainter  down  the  rugged  dell; 

And  now  the  mountain  breezes  scarcely  bring 
A  wandering  witch-note  of  the  distant  spell, 
And  now,  't  is  silent  all!  —  Enchantress,  fare  thee  well! 


CHAPTER  V 

ROKEBY 

The  town  of  Barnard  Castle,  where  we  arrived  one 
evening  after  a  long  tour  through  Yorkshire,  is  on  the 
left  bank  of  the  river  Tees  and  on  the  southern  boundary 
of  the  county  of  Durham.  In  the  morning  we  were  told 
by  'Boots,'  the  one  man  in  an  English  hotel  who  knows 
everything,  that  the  castle,  which  gives  its  name  to  the 
town,  could  be  reached  through  the  stable-yard  back  of 
the  house.  After  travelling  far  out  of  our  way  to  view 
the  setting  of  Rokeby,  which  in  the  natural  beauty  of 
its  scenery  is  unsurpassed  by  that  of  any  of  Scott's  other 
poems,  except  'The  Lady  of  the  Lake,'  the  suggestion  of 
such  an  entrance  to  the  locality  of  the  opening  stanzas 
was  a  rude  shock  to  our  sense  of  romantic  propriety. 
The  reality  was  worse  than  the  suggestion  and  we  began 
to  think  that  possibly  Mr.  Boots  might  have  misdirected 
us,  supposing  we  wished  to  see  the  barnyard  instead  of 
Barnard  Castle.  We  proceeded  on  our  way,  however, 
soon  coming  to  a  small  cottage  with  a  pretty  little  gar- 
den, —  nearly  every  English  cottage  boasts  one  of  these 
delightful  little  areas  of  colour  and  of  fragrance,  —  and 
passing  through,  reached  the  enclosure  where  all  that  is 
left  of  the  castle,  or  nearly  all,  now  stands.  Two  impress- 
ive ruined  towers  and  a  short  connecting  wall  are  practic- 
ally all  that  remain  of  a  once  splendid  royal  residence. 
On  the  left  is  '  Brackenbury's  dimgeon- tower,'  no  longer 
'dismal,'  for  the  ancient  stones  are  partly  clothed  with 

86 


ROKEBY 

the  foliage  of  fruit  trees,  trained  English  fashion  against 
the  walls,  while  a  bed  of  bright-blooming  flowers  on 
the  right,  the  fresh  green  leaves  of  some  overhanging 
branches  on  the  left,  and  the  lawn,  plentifully  besprin- 
kled with  the  dainty  little  English  daisies,  each  catching 
its  own  ray  of  sunshine  and  giving  a  sparkle  to  the  whole 
scene,  all  spoke  eloquently  of  the  change  from  death  to 
life  since  the  time  when  these  walls  cast  only  deep  shad- 
ows of  darkness  and  despair. 

On  the  right  of  the  enclosure  is  the  old  Baliol  Tower, 
and  in  the  wall  connecting  it  with  Brackenbury  is  an 
oriel  window,  where  the  arms  of  King  Richard  III  may 
still  be  faintly  traced  in  the  stone. 

Baliol  Tower  is  a  heavy  round  structure  of  great 
antiquity.  It  has  a  remarkable  vaulted  ceiling  composed 
entirely  of  keystones  arranged  in  circles.  A  narrow 
staircase  within  the  walls  leads  to  the  battlements  from 
which  we  obtained  a  magnificent  view  of  the  valley  of 
the  Tees. 

What  prospects  from  his  watch-tower  high 
Gleam  gradual  on  the  warder's  eye! 
Far  sweeping  to  the  east  he  sees 
Down  his  deep  woods  the  course  of  Tees, 
And  tracks  his  wanderings  by  the  steam 
Of  summer  vapours  from  the  stream. 

If  Barnard  Castle  appeared  unromantic,  approached 
from  the  yard  of  the  inn,  exactly  the  opposite  feeling 
took  possession  of  us  when  we  viewed  it  from  the  foot- 
bridge, just  above  the  dam.  Here  the  river  widens  until 
it  looks  like  a  placid  lake.  The  castle  rises  high  above 
the  stream,  its  base  concealed  by  trees  of  heavy  growth, 
but  not  tall  enough  to  cover  the  two  great  towers  and 

87 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

the  oriel  window  of  King  Richard.  It  is  no  longer  a  single 
ruined  wall,  but  the  imposing  front  of  a  vast  structure, 
well  placed  for  defence,  once  strong  in  war  but  now 
beautiful  in  peace. 

Barnard  Baliol,  whose  father  was  one  of  the  followers 
of  William  the  Conqueror,  foimded  the  castle  in  the 
beginning  of  the  twelfth  century.  He  was  the  grand- 
father of  John  Baliol,  who  contested  with  Robert  Bruce 
the  claim  to  the  Scottish  crown.  The  original  castle  or 
fortress  covered  an  extensive  area  of  over  six  acres, 
most  of  which  is  now  given  over  to  sheep-raising  or  to 
the  cultivation  of  fruit  trees.  An  extensive  domain, 
comprising  much  of  the  surrounding  country,  was 
granted  to  the  descendants  of  Barnard  Baliol  in  the 
reign  of  King  Rufus.  Edward  I  granted  it  to  Guy  Beau- 
champ,  Earl  of  Warwick,  in  whose  family  it  remained 
for  several  generations.  Through  the  marriage  of  the 
daughter  of  Richard  Neville,  Earl  of  Warwick,  famous 
as  the  king-maker,  to  the  Duke  of  Gloucester,  afterward 
King  Richard  III,  the  estate  came  into  possession  of  the 
Crown.  The  castle  was  a  favourite  residence  of  Rich- 
ard, who  made  many  additions  to  it.  In  the  reign  of 
Charles  I  it  was  purchased  by  Sir  Henry  Vane  the  elder. 
When  Scott  makes  it  the  property  of  Oswald  Wycliffe, 
he  does  not  go  very  far  astray,  for  John  Wycliffe,  the 
great  forerunner  of  the  Reformation  in  England,  was 
born  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Tees  and  received  his 
education  at  Baliol  College,  Oxford,  which  was  founded 
by  the  Baliols  of  Barnard  Castle,  who  were  the  neigh- 
bours of  his  family. 

Barnard  Castle,  however,  interesting  as  it  is,  was  not 
the  magnet  that  drew  the  poet  to  this  region  for  his 

88 


ROKEBY 

scenery.  In  1808,  Scott  began  his  intimacy  with  John 
B.  S.  Morritt,  a  man  of  sterling  character  and  high  lit- 
erary attainments,  for  whom  he  came  to  entertain  a 
genuine  affection.  Morritt  had  inherited  the  estate  of 
Rokeby,  situated  about  four  miles  southeast  of  Barnard 
Castle.  The  Rokebys,  like  their  neighbours,  the  Baliols, 
were  descended  from  one  of  the  followers  of  the  Con- 
queror, The  old  manor  house  was  destroyed  by  the 
Scotch  after  the  battle  of  Bannockburn  (1314),  and  the 
Rokeby  of  that  day  built  the  Castle  of  Mortham,  much 
of  which  still  remains  standing  on  the  opposite  bank  of 
the  Greta.  The  present  Hall  was  built  in  1724.  It  stands 
in  the  midst  of  an  extensive  and  beautiful  park,  which 
Scott,  on  the  occasion  of  his  first  visit,  thought  'one  of 
the  most  enviable  places'  he  had  ever  seen.  'It  unites,' 
said  he,  '  the  richness  and  luxuriance  of  English  vegeta- 
tion with  the  romantic  variety  of  glen,  torrent,  and 
copse,  which  dignifies  our  Northern  scenery.  The  Greta 
and  Tees,  two  most  beautiful  and  rapid  rivers,  join  their 
currents  in  the  demesne.  The  banks  of  the  Tees  resemble, 
from  the  height  of  the  rocks,  the  Glen  of  Roslin,  so  much 
and  justly  admired.'  The  letter  containing  this  enthusi- 
astic praise  of  his  friend's  estate  was  written  in  1809. 
Two  years  later,  when  the  purchase  of  Abbotsford 
seemed  to  require  another  poem  for  its  consummation, 
it  was  to  the  one  place  worthy  of  comparison  with  his 
beloved  Glen  of  Roslin  that  the  poet  instinctively  turned 
for  his  backgrounds. 

Scott's  ambition  to  be  the  'laird'  of  an  estate  was 
gratified  in  the  smnmer  of  181 1  when  he  became  the 
owner  of  an  unprepossessing  farm  of  about  one  hundred 
acres.  The  land  was  in  a  neglected  state,  but  little  of  it 

89 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

having  been  under  cultivation.  The  farmhouse  was  small 
and  poor,  and  immediately  in  front  of  it  was  a  miserable 
duck  pond.  The  place,  from  its  disreputable  appear- 
ance, had  been  known  as  'Clarty  Hole.'  But  Scott's 
prophetic  vision  could  look  beyond  all  this  and  see 
something,  if  not  all,  of  the  transformation  which  was 
to  be  wrought  in  the  next  twelve  years.  The  farm  lay 
for  half  a  mile  along  the  banks  of  the  beautiful  Tweed, 
the  river  which  Scott  loved.  He  knew  the  fertility  of  the 
soil  and  saw  the  possibility  of  making  the  place  a  beau- 
tiful grove.  At  first  he  thought  only  of  'a  cottage  and  a 
few  fields,'  but  as  the  passion  for  buying,  planting,  and 
building  grew  with  his  apparent  prosperity,  the  farm 
became  a  beautifully  wooded  estate  of  eighteen  hundred 
acres,  the  cottage  grew  into  a  castle,  and  'Clarty  Hole,' 
its  name  changed  into  '  Abbotsf ord '  within  less  than  an 
hour  after  the  new  owner  took  possession,  became  one  of 
the  most  famous  private  possessions  in  the  world. 

The  farm  cost  £4000,  one  half  of  which  was  borrowed 
from  the  poet's  brother.  Major  John  Scott,  and  the  other 
half  advanced  by  the  Ballantynes  on  the  security  of 
'Rokeby,'  though  the  poem  was  not  yet  written.  The 
plans  for  the  purchase  out  of  the  way,  Scott  wrote  to  his 
friend,  Morritt,  outlining  the  new  poem,  having  for  its 
scene  the  domain  of  Rokebyand  its  subject  the  civil  wars 
of  Charles  I.  Morritt  was  delighted  and  immediately 
responded  with  a  letter  full  of  valuable  information. 
The  following  simimer  was  a  busy  one.  Until  the  middle 
of  July,  Scott's  duties  as  Clerk  of  the  Court  of  Sessions 
kept  him  at  Edinburgh  five  days  in  the  week.  Saturdays 
and  Simdays  were  spent  at  Abbotsford.  He  composed 
poetry  while  planting  trees  and  wrote  down  the  verses 

90 


ROKEBY 

amid  the  noise  and  confusion  incident  to  building  his 
new  cottage.  'As  for  the  house  and  the  poem,'  he  wrote 
to  Morritt,  *  there  are  twelve  masons  hammering  at  the 
one  and  one  poor  noddle  at  the  other.'  Both  'Rokeby' 
and  'The  Bridal  of  Triermain'  were  written  imder  these 
conditions  and  at  the  same  time,  while  Scott  found  op- 
portimity  also  to  continue  his  work  on  the  'Life  of  Swift,' 
which  eventually  reached  nineteen  octavo  volumes,  and 
to  render  other  hterary  services  to  his  publishers,  the 
Ballantynes. 

It  was  not  long  before  Scott  found  an  opportunity  to 
visit  Rokeby  again,  where  he  remained  about  a  week. 
On  the  morning  after  his  arrival,  he  informed  Morritt 
that  he  needed  'a  good  robber's  cave  and  an  old  church 
of  the  right  sort.'  Morritt  promptly  undertook  to  supply 
both,  and  to  find  the  former  rode  with  his  friend  to 
Brignall  Woods,  where  the  Greta  flows  through  a  deep 
glen,  on  one  side  of  which  are  some  perpendicular  rocks, 
the  site  of  an  old  quarry.  I  could  not  find  any  robber's 
caves,  but  it  was  easy  enough  for  Scott  to  make  one  in 
such  a  rock  formation.  I  could,  however,  form  a  pretty 
good  idea  of  the  wild  flight  of  Bertram  Risingham  as  he 

Now  clomb  the  rocks  projecting  high 

To  baffle  the  pursuer's  eye: 

Now  sought  the  stream,  whose  brawling  sound 

The  echo  of  his  footsteps  drowned. 

In  all  probability,  the  scene  is  the  same  to-day,  as  it  was 
in  Scott's  time,  wild  and  beautiful.  The  stream  winds 
aroimd  through  shady  nooks,  here  rippling  over  the 
rocks  and  then  widening  out  into  a  placid  pool ;  occa- 
sionally passing  out  from  beneath  the  trees  into  an  open 
glade,  where  the  well-worn  boulders  that  punctuated  its 

91 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

course  lay  gleaming  in  the  sun,  and  presenting  at  every 
turn  some  new  and  changing  view. 

O,  Brignall  banks  are  wild  and  fair, 
And  Greta  Woods  are  green. 

In  describing  the  visit  to  this  place  Mr.  Morritt  gives 
an  excellent  idea  of  Scott's  method :  — 

1  observed  him  noting  down  even  the  peculiar  little  wild 
jQowers  and  herbs  that  accidentally  grew  round  and  on  the 
side  of  a  bold  crag  near  his  intended  cave  of  Guy  Denzil;  and 
could  not  help  sa3dng  that  as  he  was  not  to  be  upon  oath  in 
his  work,  daisies,  violets,  and  primroses  would  be  as  poetical 
as  any  of  the  hiunble  plants  he  was  examining.  1  laughed,  in 
short,  at  his  scrupulousness;  but  1  understood  him  when  he 
replied,  'that  in  nature  herself  no  two  scenes  were  ever 
exactly  alike,  and  that  whoever  copied  truly  what  was  before 
his  eyes  would  possess  the  same  variety  in  his  descriptions 
and  exhibit  apparently  an  imagination  as  boundless  as  the 
range  of  nature  in  the  scenes  he  recorded;  whereas  whoever 
trusted  to  imagination  would  soon  find  his  own  mind  cir- 
cmnscribed,  and  contracted  to  a  few  favourite  images,  and 
the  repetition  of  these  would  sooner  or  later  produce  that 
very  monotony  and  bareness  which  had  always  haunted 
descriptive  poetry  in  the  hands  of  any  but  the  patient  wor- 
shippers of  truth. 

The  'old  church  of  the  right  sort'  was  found  on  the 
other  side  of  Rokeby  Park.  We  reached  it  from  Bar- 
nard Castle  by  crossing  the  high  Abbey  Bridge,  beneath 
which  the  Tees  flows  in  a  narrow,  rippling,  foaming 
lane  of  water,  flanked  on  either  side  by  trees  of  rich 
foliage  whose  bright  green  branches  wave  to  each  other 
continually  across  the  stream  in  a  sort  of  friendly  salute. 
The  old  grey  Abbey  of  Egliston  is  pleasantly  situated 
on  rising  groimd  near  where  the  Tees  is  joined  by  the 
rivulet  known  as  Thorsgill. 

93 


ROKEBY 

Yet  scald  or  kemper  erred,  I  ween, 
.    Who  gave  that  soft  and  quiet  scene, 
With  all  its  varied  light  and  shade, 
And  every  little  sunny  glade, 
And  the  blithe  brook  that  strolls  along 
Its  pebbled  bed  with  summer  song. 
To  the  grim  God  of  blood  and  scar. 
The  grisly  King  of  Northern  War. 

The  abbey  was  founded  in  the  twelfth  century  and  dedi- 
cated to  St.  Mary  and  St.  John  the  Baptist,  It  was  once  a 
beautiful  cruciform  building  in  the  Early  English  style, 
but  has  been  allowed  to  fall  into  decay  and  now  only 
parts  of  the  walls  of  the  choir  and  nave  remain. 

The  reverend  pile  lay  wild  and  waste. 
Profound,  dishonoured,  and  defaced. 
Through  storied  lattices  no  more, 
In  softened  light  the  sunbeams  pour. 
Gilding  the  Gothic  sculpture  rich 
Of  shrine  and  ornament  and  niche. 

This  was  the  scene  which  Scott  chose  for  the  culminating 
tragedy  of  the  poem. 

There  are  many  other  places  in  the  neighbourhood  to 
which  the  poet  refers.  There  is  '  Raby's  battered  tower,' 
a  large  castle  which  boasts  the  honour  of  twice  enter- 
taining Charles  I.  There  is  the  Balder,  'a  sweet  brook- 
let's silver  line,'  which  flows  into  the  Tees  a  few  miles 
above  Barnard  Castle,  and  farther  to  the  northwest, 
where  the  three  counties  of  York,  Durham,  and  West- 
moreland meet,  is  the  place 

Where  Tees  in  tumult  leaves  his  source 
Thundering  o'er  Cauldron  and  High-Force. 

These  two  cataracts  are  most  impressive  when  rain- 
storms have  swelled  the  stream  to  its  full  capacity.  Just 

93 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

outside  the  park  of  Rokeby  is  a  charming  spot  where 
the  Greta  meets  the  Tees,  — 

Where,  issuing  from  her  darksome  bed, 
She  caught  the  morning's  eastern  red, 
And  through  the  softening  vale  below 
Rolled  her  bright  waves  in  rosy  glow 
All  blushing  to  her  bridal  bed, 
Like  some  shy  maid  in  convent  bred, 
While  linnet,  lark,  and  blackbird  gay 
Sang  forth  her  nuptial  roundelay. 

Half  hidden  by  the  trees,  the  old  stone  'dairy  bridge' 
crosses  the  Greta,  just  where  the  river  emerges  from  the 
j>ark.  It  makes  a  pretty  picture  as  you  look  through  the 
single  arch  into  the  cool  shades  of  the  peaceful  domain. 
Passing  over  this  bridge  we  came  to  the  old  tower  of 
Mortham.  We  did  not  find  it  deserted  as  did  Wilfrid 
and  Bertram,  for  it  is  now  used  as  a  farm  and  the  tower 
is  almost  completely  surroimded  by  low  buildings  of 
comparatively  recent  construction.  From  the  garden, 
however,  a  fairly  good  view  can  be  obtained. 

And  last  and  least,  and  loveUest  still. 
Romantic  Deepdale's  slender  rill. 
Who  in  that  dim-wood  glen  hath  strayed, 
Yet  longed  for  Roslin's  magic  glade? 

The  glen  which  Scott  would  compare  with  his  favourite 
Roslin  must  be  romantic,  indeed.  The  rill  of  Deepdale 
joins  the  Tees  just  above  Barnard  Castle.  The  scenery 
increases  in  beauty  as  the  stream  is  ascended,  to  the 
solitary  spot  near  the  Cat  Castle  rocks  — 

Where  all  is  cliflf  and  copse  and  sky,  — 

and  reaches  its  climax  at  the  pretty  waterfall  of  Cragg 
Force. 

94 


ROKEBY 

The  Cavaliers  and  Roundheads  whom  Scott  introduces 
into  the  midst  of  this  beautiful  scenery  are  not,  it  must 
be  confessed,  particularly  interesting,  nor  is  the  villain 
Bertram,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  poet  was  a  httle 
proud  of  him  as  a  sketch  full  of  dash  and  vigour.  There 
are  three  people,  however,  who  hold  the  attention.  The 
first  is  Matilda,  who,  by  the  poet's  faintly  veiled  ad- 
mission, was  intended  to  be  the  picture  of  his  early  love, 
Williamina  Stuart.  In  Wilfrid,  the  youth  of  poetic  tem- 
perament, who  loved  in  vain,  and  Redmond,  his  success- 
ful but  generous  rival,  there  is  a  suggestion,  which  one 
can  scarcely  escape,  of  the  poet  himself  and  Sir  William 
Forbes,  who  married  WilHamina.  Redmond  showed  his 
kindly  heart  and  soldierly  strength  by  fighting  desper- 
ately over  the  prostrate  figure  of  his  wounded  rival,  at 
length  carrying  him  in  his  arms  from  the  burning  castle 
to  a  place  of  safety,  after  his  entire  train  had  deserted 
their  leader.  Sir  William  Forbes  was  one  of  the  first  to 
offer  aid  when  financial  misfortune  overtook  Sir  Walter, 
and  when  one  creditor  undertook  to  make  serious 
trouble,  privately  paid  the  entire  claim  of  nearly  £2000, 
taking  care  that  Scott  should  not  know  how  it  Was 
managed.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  Sir  Walter  did  not  learn 
the  truth  until  some  time  after  the  death  of  his  gener- 
ous friend. 


CHAPTER    VI 

THE    BRIDAL    OF    TRIERMAm 

One  of  Scott's  chief  delights  was  the  little  game  of 
fooling  the  critics.  No  sooner  had  he  arranged  for  the 
publication  of  'Rokeby'  than  he  began  to  lay  a  trap  for 
Jeffrey,  whose  reviews  of  the  earlier  poems  had  not  been 
altogether  agreeable.  From  this  innocent  little  scheme 
the  poet  and  his  confidant,  WiUiam  Erskine,  anticipated 
great  amusement.  The  plan  was  to  publish  simulta- 
neously with  'Rokeby,*  a  shorter  and  lighter  romance, 
in  a  different  metre  and  to  '  take  in  the  knowing  ones '  by 
introducing  certain  peculiarities  of  composition  sugges- 
tive of  Erskine.  The  poem  thus  projected,  of  which  frag- 
ments had  already  been  published,  was  'The  Bridal  of 
Triermain.'  The  scheme  so  far  succeeded  that  for  a  long 
while  the  public  was  completely  mystified.  A  writer  in 
the  'Quarterly  Review,'  probably  George  Ellis,  thought 
it  'an  imitation  of  Mr.  Scott's  style  of  composition,' 
and  added,  'if  it  be  inferior  in  vigour  to  some  of  his  pro- 
ductions, it  equals  or  surpasses  them  in  elegance  and 
beauty.'  Jeffrey  escaped  the  trap  by  the  chance  of  a 
voyage  to  America  that  year,  though  it  may  be  doubted 
whether  he  would  have  fallen  into  it. 

I  have  already  referred  to  the  fact  (chapter  I)  that 
much  of  the  material  for  this  poem  came  to  Scott  in  the 
simimer  of  1797,  when,  after  a  visit  to  the  English  Lakes, 
he  foimd  some  weeks  of  real  romance  near  the  village  of 

96 


THE  BRIDAL  OF  TRIERMAIN 

Gilsland.  To  this  period  the  poet's  recollection  turned 
for  his  'light  romance.'  In  the  passage  where  Arthur 
derides  the  pretensions  of  his  military  rival,  — 

Who  comes  in  foreign  trashery 

Of  tinkling  chain  and  spur, 
A  walking  haberdashery 

Of  feathers,  lace,  and  fur,  — 

Lockhart  finds  an  allusion  to  some  incident  of  the  ball 
at  Gilsland  Spa  where  Scott  first  met  his  future  wife. 
Whether  the  walk  along  the  Irthing  River  below  the 
*  Spa 'was  really  in  the  poet's  mind,  when  he  wrote  of 
the  'woodland  brook'  beside  which  Arthur  and  Lucy 
wandered,  is  of  course  unknown,  but  I  do  not  doubt 
that  it  may  have  been,  since  so  much  of  the  poem  was 
suggested  by  the  experiences  of  that  pleasant  summer. 
Triermain  Castle,  or  what  is  left  of  it,  is  about  three 
miles  west  of  Gilsland.  Only  a  fragment  about  the  size 
of  an  ordinary  chimney  is  now  standing,  though  Scott 
saw  more  of  it,  for  a  considerable  portion  of  the  ruin  fell 
in  1832.  The  Barons  of  Gilsland  received  a  grant  of  land 
from  Henry  II  sometime  in  the  twelfth  century,  and 
Robert  de  Vaux,  son  of  the  original  grantee,  was  prob- 
ably the  builder  of  the  castle.  On  his  tombstone  in  Lan- 
nercost  Priory,  near  by,  is  this  inscription:  — 

Sir  Robert  Vaux  that  sometime  was  the  Lord  of  Triermain, 
Is  dead,  his  body  clad  in  lead,  ligs  law  under  this  stane; 
Evin  as  we,  evin  as  he,  on  earth  a  levan  man, 
Evin  as  he,  evin  so  maun  we,  for  all  the  craft  of  men. 

The  castle  was  built  of  the  stones  of  the  old  Roman  wall 
which  passes  near  the  place.  From  Triermain,  Sir 
Roland  de  Vaux  sent  his  page  to  UUswater,  passing 

97 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

through  Kirkoswald,  a  village  of  Cumberland  on  the 
river  Eden.  He  came  to  Penrith,  to  the  south  of  which  is 
a  circular  mound  supposed  to  have  been  used  for  the 
exercise  of  feats  of  chivalry,  which  the  poet  calls  'red 
Penrith's  Table  Roxmd.'  In  the  same  locality  near  the 
river  Eamont  is  'Mayburgh's  mound,'  a  collection  of 
stones  said  to  have  been  erected  by  the  Druids.  Contin- 
uing to  the  southward,  he  came  to  the  shores  of  UUs- 
water,  where  he  found  the  wizard  of  Lyulph's  Tower. 
The  venerable  sage  then  related  the  story  of  King 
Arthur's  adventure  in  the  Valley  of  St.  John. 

We  set  out  in  quest  of  the  mysterious  phantom  castle 
and  foimd  the  drive  through  the  narrow  valley  a  delight- 
ful one.  Nearly  everybody  who  visits  the  English  Lakes 
drives  over  the  hills  from  Ambleside  to  Keswick.  After 
passing  Dunmailraise  and  skirting  the  shores  of  Thirl- 
mere  Lake  beneath  the  shadows  of  Helvellyn,  we  turned 
off  the  main  road  near  the  mouth  of  St.  John's  Beck,  one 
of  the  many  pretty  brooks  that  are  found  everywhere  in 
the  neighbourhood.  A  huge  pile  of  rocks,  projecting 
curiously  from  the  side  of  a  green-coated  hill,  is  called, 
from  the  poem,  Triermain  Castle  Rock.  Following  the 
course  of  the  streamlet,  upward,  we  foimd  a  view  much 
like  that  which  appeared  to  King  Arthur,  after  the  goblet 
with  its  Uquid  fire  had  disenchanted  him. 

The  monarch,  breathless  and  amazed, 
Back  on  the  fatal  castle  gazed  — 
Nor  tower  nor  donjon  could  he  spy, 
Darkening  against  the  morning  sky; 
But  on  the  spot  where  once  they  frowned, 
The  lonely  streamlet  brawled  around 
A  tufted  knoll,  where  dimly  shone 
Fragments  of  rock  and  rifted  stone. 

9& 


THE    VALLEY    OF    ST.    JOHN,    SHOWING    TRIERMAIN 
CASTLE   ROCK 


THE  BRIDAL  OF  TRIERMAIN 

As  we  proceeded  up  the  valley,  looking  back  time  and 
again  for  a  last  view  of  the  rock,  it  was  easy  to  fancy  that 
what  we  saw  in  the  distance  might  well  be  a  castle  and 
that  mider  certain  atmospheric  conditions  the  illusion 
might  be  heightened. 


CHAPTER   Vn 

THE    LORD    OF    THE    ISLES 

'The  Lord  of  the  Isles,'  was  another  effort  to  deceive  the 
critics.  A  long  poem  acknowledged  by  Walter  Scott, 
following  soon  after  'Waverley'  and  only  a  month  pre- 
ceding 'Guy  Mannering,'  was  calculated  to  'throw  off' 
those  who  were  trying  to  identify  the  mysterious  author 
of  the  Waverley  Novels  with  the  well-known  poet.  It 
was  the  result  of  a  vacation  journey  of  about  six  weeks 
in  a  Ughthouse  yacht,  made  in  the  summer  of  1 8 14  in  the 
company  of  a  party  of  congenial  friends.  The  chief  of 
the  expedition  was  Robert  Stevenson,  a  distinguished 
civil  engineer  in  charge  of  the  lighthouse  service  on  the 
north  coast  of  Scotland,  and  the  grandfather  of  Robert 
Louis  Stevenson.  After  circling  the  Shetland  and  Ork- 
ney Islands  they  came  down  into  the  Minch  or  channel 
which  separates  the  west  coast  of  Scotland  from  the  Heb- 
rides, and  stopped  at  Dunvegan,  on  the  Isle  of  Skye,  to 
see  the  ancient  castle.  Two  days  later  they  stopped  to 
examine  Loch  Corriskin,  which  made  a  profound  impres- 
sion upon  the  poet's  mind.  'We  were  surrounded,'  he 
said  in  his  Diary  of  the  expedition,  'by  hills  of  the  bold- 
est and  most  precipitous  character  and  on  the  margin 
of  a  lake  which  seemed  to  have  sustained  the  constant 
ravages  of  torrents  from  these  rude  neighbours.  The 
shores  consist  of  huge  layers  of  naked  gram'te,  here  and 
there  intermixed  with  bogs  and  heaps  of  gravel  and  sand, 
marking  the  course  of  torrents.   Vegetation  there  was 

xoo 


THE  LORD  OF  THE  ISLES 

little  or  none,  and  the  mountains  rose  so  perpendicu- 
larly from  the  water's  edge  that  Borrowdale  is  a  jest  to 
them.  We  proceeded  about  one  mile  and  a  half  up  this 
deep,  dark,  and  solitary  lake,  which  is  about  two  miles 
long,  half  a  mile  broad,  and,  as  we  learned,  of  extreme 
depth.  ...  It  is  as  exquisite  as  a  savage  scene,  as  Loch 
Katrine  is  as  a  scene  of  stern  beauty.'  In  the  poem  he 
gives  a  little  more  vivid  description:  — 

For  rarely  human  eye  has  known 
A  scene  so  stem  as  that  dread  lake 

With  its  dark  ledge  of  barren  stone. 
Seems  that  primeval  earthquake's  sway 
Hath  rent  a  strange  and  shatter'd  way 

Through  the  rude  bosom  of  the  hill, 
And  that  each  naked  precipice, 
Sable  ravine,  and  dark  abyss, 

Tells  of  the  outrage  still. 
The  wildest  glen  but  this  can  show 
Some  touch  of  Natiure's  genial  glow; 
On  high  Benmore  green  mosses  grow, 
And  heath-bells  bud  in  deep  Glencroe, 

And  copse  on  Cruchan-Ben; 
But  here  —  above,  around,  below, 

On  mountain  or  in  glen, 
Nor  tree  nor  shrub,  nor  plant,  nor  flower, 
Nor  aught  of  vegetative  power 

The  weary  eye  may  ken. 
For  all  is  rocks  at  random  thrown. 
Black  waves,  bare  crags,  and  banks  of  stone. 

As  if  were  here  denied 
The  summer's  sun,  the  spring's  sweet  dew. 
That  clothe  with  many  a  varied  hue 

The  bleakest  moimtain-side. 

No  wonder  that  the  exiled  monarch,  Bruce,  should  say: 

A  scene  so  rude,  so  wild  as  this. 
Yet  so  sublime  in  barrenness, 

lOI 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

Ne'er  did  my  wandering  footsteps  press 
Where'er  I  happed  to  roam. 

Returning  to  their  vessel  after  an  extraordinary  walk, 
the  party  left  Loch  Sca\'ig  and,  rounding  its  southern 
cape,  sailed  into  the  Loch  of  Sleapin,  where  they  visited 
Macallister's  Cave.  Here  they  found  a  wonderful  pool, 
which,  'surrounded  by  the  most  fanciful  mouldings  in  a 
substance  resembling  white  marble,  and  distinguished 
by  the  depth  and  purity  of  its  waters,  might  be  the 
bathing  grotto  of  a  Naiad.' 

In  the  morning  they  sailed  toward  the  south  and 

Merrily,  merrily  goes  the  bark 
On  a  breeze  from  the  northward  free, 

So  shoots  through  the  morning  sky  the  lark, 
Or  the  swan  through  the  summer  sea. 

The  shores  of  Mvill  on  the  eastward  lay, 

And  XJlva  dark  and  Colonsay, 

And  aU  the  group  of  islets  gay 
That  guard  famed  StafFa  round. 

They  were  following  the  same  route,  or  nearly  so,  which 
the  poet  afterward  laid  down  for  Robert  Bruce  on  his 
return  from  the  Island  of  Skye  to  his  native  coast  of 
Carrick. 

They  stopped  at  Staflfa  to  view  the  famous  basaltic 
formation,  — 

Where,  as  to  shame  the  temples  decked 
By  skill  of  earthly  architect. 
Nature  herself,  it  seemed,  would  raise 
A  minster  to  her  Maker's  praise. 

*The  stupendous  columnar  side  walls,'  says  the  Diary; 
*  the  depth  and  strength  of  the  ocean  with  which  the  cav- 
ern is  filled  —  the  variety  of  tints  formed  by  stalactites 

^00 


THE  LORD  OF  THE  ISLES 

dropping  and  petrifying  between  the  pillars  and  resem- 
bling a  sort  of  chasing  of  yellow  or  cream-coloured 
marble  filling  the  interstices  of  the  roof  —  the  corre- 
sponding variety  below,  where  the  ocean  rolls  over  a 
red,  and  in  some  places  a  violet-coloured  rock,  the  basis 
of  the  basaltic  pillars  —  the  dreadful  noise  of  those  au- 
gust billows  so  well  corresponding  with  the  grandeur  of 
the  scene  —  are  all  circumstances  unparalleled.' 

They  also  stopped  to  view  'Old  lona's  holy  fane,' 
the  ancient  burial-place  of  kings  and  abbots  and  other 
men  of  eminence.  It  is  said  that  Macbeth  was  buried 
here  and  before  him  sixty  other  Scottish  kings  whose 
names  are  now  unknown. 

The  vivid  descriptions  of  scenes  along  the  route  of 
Bruce  to  Scotland,  with  which  'The  Lord  of  the  Isles' 
abounds,  were  gathered  on  this  memorable  journey  of 
the  poet.  It  was  not  so,  however,  with  the  arrival  of 
Bruce  at  his  ancestral  castle  of  Tumberry  on  the  coast  of 
Ayr,  the  information  for  which  was  supplied  by  Scott's 
indefatigable  friend,  Joseph  Train,  whose  investigations 
brought  to  light  the  ancient  superstition  that  on  each 
anniversary  of  the  night  of  Bruce's  return  a  meteoric 
gleam  reappeared  in  the  same  quarter  of  the  heavens. 

The  light  that  seemed  a  twinkling  star 
Now  blazed  portentous,  fierce  and  far, 
Dark  red  the  heaven  above  it  gleamed, 
Dark  red  the  sea  beneath  it  flowed, 
Red-rose  the  rocks  on  ocean's  brim, 
In  blood-red  light  her  islets  swim. 

The  ruins  of  Bruce's  castle  may  still  be  seen  close  by 
the  lighthouse  at  Turnberry.  So  little  remains  that  they 
are  scarcely  visible  from  the  land  side,  and  though  thou- 

103 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

sands  visit  the  locality  for  a  run  over  the  superb  golf 
links,  few  realize  that  here  was  the  birthplace  of  Robert 
Bruce,  and  that  the  skirmishes  here  begun,  when  the 
future  king  returned  prematurely  from  exile,  led  event- 
ually to  the  series  of  successes  which  terminated  in  the 
great  victory  of  Bannockburn. 

The  poetic  description  of  this  terrific  combat  lacks 
nothing  of  the  vigour  and  dramatic  force  that  charac- 
terize the  story  of  Flodden  Field.  The  scene  where  the 
Bruce,  suddenly  attacked  by  Sir  Henry  de  Bohim,  rises  in 
his  stirrups  and  fells  the  fierce  knight  with  a  single  blow 
of  his  battle-axe ;  the  stratagem  of  the  concealed  ditches 
into  which  the  English  rode  with  fearful  losses ;  the  kneel- 
ing of  the  Scottish  army  in  prayer  before  the  battle;  the 
charge  of  the  cavalry  against  the  English  archers;  the 
sudden  appearance  of  the  Scottish  camp-followers  on 
the  brow  of  the  hill,  waving  their  spears  and  banners,  so 
that  they  resembled  a  fresh  army  of  reinforcements;  the 
tragic  death  of  De  Argentine  and  the  final  triumph  of 
the  Scottish  cause  are  vividly  portrayed  with  all  the 
jx)et's  accustomed  power. 

'The  Lord  of  the  Isles'  was  the  last  of  Scott's  import- 
ant poems.  Two  other  attempts  followed,  'The  Field 
of  Waterloo'  and  'Harold,  the  Daimtless,'  but  neither 
was  considered  successful. 

'Rokeby,'  'The  Bridal  of  Triermain,'  and  'The  Lord 
of  the  Isles,'  though  well  worthy  of  the  genius  of  the  poet, 
had  failed  to  equal  in  popularity  the  three  greater  poems 
by  which  his  fame  had  been  established.  The  brilliant 
success  of  Byron  was,  as  Scott  feared,  '  taking  the  wind 
out  of  his  sails.'  Moreover,  his  own  interest  in  poetry 
had  waned  under  the  influence  of  his  greater  achieve- 

104 


THE  LORD  OF  THE  ISLES 

ments  in  prose.  As  the  author  of  the  Waverley  Novels 
he  had  stepped  into  a  new  and  vastly  more  important 
field,  where  he  now  stood  alone.  So  with  the  passing  of 
Walter  Scott  the  poet  came  the  rising  star  of  the  novel- 
ist, and  the  world  was  the  richer  by  the  transition. 


CHAPTER  Vni 

WAVERLEY 

One  morning  during  our  stay  at  Melrose,  we  drove  by 
motor  westward  along  the  Tweed,  passing  Ashestiel, 
situated  high  up  on  the  opposite  bank,  but  catching  only 
a  glimp>se  of  it  through  the  trees.  Here  'Waverley'  was 
begun  in  1805  and  laid  aside  because  of  the  criticism  of 
a  dose  friend.  Here,  too,  in  1810,  it  was  resxmaed  and 
again  put  aside  because  of  the  faint  praise  of  James  Bal- 
lantyne.  This  time  the  manuscript  was  lost  and  com- 
pletely forgotten.  It  came  to  light  in  1813  when  Scott 
was  searching  in  an  old  cabinet  for  some  fishing-tackle. 
He  was  seized  with  a  desire  to  finish  it,  and  the  work 
was  done  so  fast  that  the  last  two  of  the  original  three 
volumes  were  written  in  three  weeks.  It  was  published 
on  the  7  th  of  July,  18 14. 

Farther  up  the  stream  we  could  see  in  the  distance  on 
a  high  elevation  the  ruins  of  Elibank,  where  Scott's 
ancestor,  young  Wat  of  Harden,  came  so  near  paying  the 
penalty  for  'lifting'  a  few  head  of  his  neighbour's  cattle. 
Scott  always  said  that  the  blood  of  the  old  cattle-drivers 
of  Teviotdale  still  stirred  in  his  veins,  and  in  this  way  he 
accoimted  for  his  'propensity  for  the  dubious  characters 
of  borderers,  buccaneers.  Highland  robbers,  and  all 
others  of  a  Robin  Hood  description.' 

Our  journey  on  this  particular  morning  was  for  the 
purpose  of  visiting  an  old  baronial  mansion  which  Scott 
no  doubt  had  very  much  in  his  mind  during  the  writing 

106 


WAVERLEY 

of 'Waverley.'  This  wasTraquair  House,  situated  in 
the  village  of  that  name,  about  two  miles  south  of  Inner- 
leithen. It  presents  some  striking  resemblances  to  the 
description  of  Tully  Veolan.  There  is  a  long  and  wide 
avenue,  having  an  upper  and  a  lower  gate.  '  This  avenue 
was  straight  and  of  moderate  length,  running  between 
a  double  row  of  very  ancient  horse-chestnuts,  planted 
alternately  with  sycamores,  which  rose  to  such  huge 
height,  and  flourished  so  luxuriantly,  that  their  boughs 
completely  overarched  the  broad  road  beneath.'  Two 
narrow  drives,  one  on  each  side  of  the  broad  avenue, 
converge  immediately  in  front  of  the  inner  gate.  Be- 
tween these  is  a  broad  space  'clothed  with  grass  of  a 
deep  and  rich  verdure.'  The  outer  entrance  to  the  ave- 
nue is  barred  by  a  pair  of  iron  gates,  hung  between  two 
massive  piUars  of  stone,  on  each  of  which  is  a  curious 
beast,  standing  on  his  hind  legs,  his  fore  legs  resting 
on  a  sort  of  scroll-work  support.  The  animals  face  each 
other  like  a  couple  of  rival  legislators  holding  a  joint 
debate  from  behind  tall  reading-desks.  Scott  says  some- 
what dubiously  that  these  'two  large  weather-beaten 
mutilated  masses  of  upright  stone  ...  if  the  tradition  of 
the  hamlet  could  be  trusted,  had  once  represented,  or  at 
least  been  designed  to  represent,  two  rampant  Bears, 
the  supporters  of  the  family  of  Bradwardine.'  If  any  of 
the  village  people,  who  stood  around  as  I  arranged  my 
camera,  their  wide-stretched  eyes  and  open  mouths 
betraying  their  curiosity,  had  told  me  that  these  'bears' 
were  'rampant  hippopotami,'  I  should  have  rewarded 
them  with  my  usual  credulous  nod  and  'thank  you.' 
There  can  be  little  doubt  that  Scott  took  the  idea  of 
the  Bears  of  Bradwardine  from  this  gate,  although  he 

107 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

multiplied  the  two  and  scattered  them  all  over  the 
place. 

Like  Tully  Veolan,  the  house  seems  to  consist  of  high, 
narrow,  and  steep-roofed  buildings,  with  numberless 
windows,  all  very  small,  while  the  roofs  have  little  tur- 
rets, 'resembling  pepper-boxes.'  It  was  built  'at  a  pe- 
riod when  castles  were  no  longer  necessary  and  when 
the  Scottish  architects  had  not  yet  acquired  the  art 
of  designing  a  domestic  residence.' 

Scott  no  doubt  was  a  frequent  visitor  here.  In  one  of 
his  letters  he  refers  to  the  owner  in  connection  with  a 
plan  to  plant  some '  aquatic  trees,  — willows,  alders,  pop- 
lars, and  so  forth,'  —  around  a  little  pond  in  Abbots- 
ford  and  to  have  a  '  preserve  of  wild  ducks '  and  other 
water-fowl.  He  says,  *I  am  to  get  some  eggs  from  Lord 
Traquair,  of  a  curious  species  of  half-reclaimed  wild 
ducks,  which  abound  near  his  solitary  old  chateau  and 
nowhere  else  in  Scotland  that  I  know  of.'  This  denotes 
a  somewhat  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  Earl  of 
Traquair.  The  house,  indeed,  was  so  nearAshestielthat 
Scott  could  hardly  fail  to  visit  so  interesting  a  place 
many  times.  It  is  doubtful  if  there  is  another  inhabited 
house  in  Scotland  more  ancient  than  Traquair.  The 
present  owner  takes  care  to  preserve  its  appearance  of 
antiquity.  No  repairs  or  alterations  are  made  except 
such  as  are  absolutely  necessary,  and  then  the  work  is 
done  in  such  a  way  as  to  conceal  its  'newness.'  Among 
the  early  owners  of  the  estate  was  James,  Lord  Douglas, 
the  friend  of  Bruce,  who  attempted  to  carry  his  chief's 
heart  to  the  Holy  Land.  The  founder  of  the  family  of 
Traquair  was  James  Stuart,  and  his  descendants  have 
held  the  estate  for  nearly  four  centuries. 

io8 


WAVERLEY 

The  great  gate  with  the  grotesque  bears  has  been 
closed  for  more  than  a  century.  One  tradition  is  that  the 
defeat  of  the  young  Prince  Charles  at  the  battle  of  Cul- 
loden  in  1746  was  the  direct  cause  of  its  final  closing. 
The  Prince  visited  the  Earl  of  that  day  (Charles,  the 
fifth  Earl  of  Traquair)  to  persuade  him  to  lend  his  active 
support  to  the  Jacobite  cause.  The  Earl  felt  compelled 
to  decline,  but  in  escorting  his  visitor  from  the  park, 
made  a  vow  that  the  gate  should  never  be  opened  again 
until  a  Stuart  was  on  the  throne.  The  defeat  of  the  Prince 
was  a  severe  disappointment  to  the  Traquair  family  and 
the  vow  of  the  Earl  has  been  kept  to  this  day,  even 
though  the  earldom  is  now  extinct. 

It  is  not  correct,  however,  in  spite  of  the  striking 
resemblances,  to  speak  of  Traquair  House  as  the  'origi- 
nal '  of  TuUy  Veolan.  Scott  himself  says  in  his  note  in 
the  edition  of  1829,  'There  is  no  particular  mansion 
described  under  the  name  of  TuUy  Veolan;  but  the  pecu- 
liarities of  description  occur  in  various  old  Scottish  seats.' 
Among  these  were  the  house  of  Sir  George  Warrender 
upon  Bruntsfield  Links;  the  old  house  of  Ravelston, 
owned  by  Sir  Alexander  Keith,  the  author's  friend  and 
kinsman,  from  which  he  took  some  hints  for  the  garden; 
and  the  house  of  Dean,  near  Edinburgh.  He  adds,' The 
author  has,  however,  been  informed  that  the  house  of 
Grandtully  resembles  that  of  the  Baron  of  Bradwardine 
still  more  than  any  of  the  above.' 

Acting  upon  this  hint,  when  we  were  making  the  city 
of  Perth  our  centre,  we  took  a  long  journey  by  motor 
with  Grandtully  Castle  as  the  objective  point.  I  doubt 
if  there  is  a  more  beautiful  drive  in  all  Scotland.  We  fol- 
lowed the  left  bank  of  the  river  Tay  through  a  fertile 

Z09 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

valley  of  surpassing  loveliness.  In  the  whole  journey  of 
nearly  one  hundred  miles  it  seemed  as  though  there  was 
never  a  blot  on  the  landscape.  No  neglected  farms,  no 
rough  patches  of  naked  earth,  no  tumble-down  fences, 
no  unsightly  railroad  excavations  nor  bare  embank- 
ments, no  swamps  fdled  with  fallen  timber,  no  hideous 
bill-boards,  none  of  the  himdreds  of  unsightly  objects 
which  mar  the  scenery  of  so  many  country  drives. 
Everything  seemed  well  kept.  The  big  estates  were  filled 
with  beautiful  trees  and  shrubs,  many  of  them  in  full 
bloom,  and  the  humbler  places  did  equally  well,  though 
on  a  smaller  scale.  I  remember  passing  a  hedge  of 
beeches,  half  a  mile  long,  the  trees  growing  ninety  feet 
high  and  so  close  together  as  to  make  a  wall  impene- 
trable to  the  sunUght.  I  was  told  that  this  hedge  was 
trimmed  once  in  three  years  at  an  expense  of  fifteen 
hundred  dollars  each  time.  This  is  only  one  item  in  the 
care  of  a  large  estate.  We  passed  the  park  and  palace  of 
Scone,  where  the  coronation  stone  was  kept  before  its 
removal  to  Westminster  Abbey,  and  from  which  it 
received  its  name.  Farther  to  the  north  we  stopped  a 
few  minutes  at  Campsie  Linn,  which  I  shall  mention 
later  in  connection  with  'The  Fair  Maid  of  Perth.'  A 
little  beyond  Cargill  our  course  turned  sharply  to  the 
West,  although  the  main  road  continues  to  the  north 
until  it  reaches  Blairgowrie,  some  two  or  three  miles 
beyond  which  is  another  'original'  of  Tully  Veolan,  the 
house  of  Craighall.  Unfortunately  lack  of  time  did  not 
permit  a  visit  to  this  place,  but  I  must  digress  long 
enough  to  explain  its  significance.  It  was  the  seat  of  the 
Rattray  family,  who  were  related  to  William  Clerk,  one 
of  Scott's  most  intimate  companions  of  the  early  days 

no 


WAVERLEY 

spent  among  the  law  courts  of  Edinburgh.  During  one 
of  the  Highland  excursions  the  friends  stopped  at  Craig- 
hall.  When  'Waverley'  came  out,  twenty-one  years 
later,  Mr.  Clerk  was  so  much  struck  with  the  resem- 
blance of  Tully  Veolan  to  the  old  mansion  of  the  Rat- 
trays  that  he  immediately  said,  'This  is  Scott's.'  The 
reason  for  the  conviction  was  probably  not  so  much  the 
similarity  of  the  real  house  to  the  fictitious  one  as 
the  recollection  of  a  little  incident  of  the  early  excursion. 
Clerk,  seeing  the  smoke  of  a  little  hamlet  before  them, 
when  they  were  tired  and  heated  from  their  journey,  is 
said  to  have  exclaimed,  'How  agreeable  if  we  should 
here  fall  in  with  one  of  those  signposts  where  a  red  Uon 
predominates  over  a  punch-bowl ! '  In  spite  of  the  lapse 
of  so  many  years,  Clerk  recognized  his  own  expression 
(with  which  he  knew  Scott  had  been  particularly 
amused)  in  that  part  of  the  description  of  Tully  Veo- 
lan where  'a  huge  bear,  carved  in  stone,  predominated 
over  a  large  stone  basin.' 

Following  the  course  of  the  beautiful  river,  upstream, 
we  came  at  length,  far  up  in  the  Perthshire  hills,  to  the 
Castle  of  Grandtully.  It  is  a  large  and  stately  mansion, 
situated  in  one  of  those  beautiful  parks  with  which  the 
region  abounds.  It  has  the  pepper-box  turrets  and  small 
windows  of  Tully  Veolan.  It  is  now,  as  in  Scott's  time, 
the  home  of  a  family  of  Stewarts,  one  of  whom.  Sir 
George,  supported  the  cause  of  'the  Young  Chevalier' 
in  1745.  The  gardener,  who,  in  the  absence  of  the 
family,  did  the  honours  of  the  place,  told  me  that  Scott 
had  visited  the  house  many  years  after  'Waverley'  ap- 
peared and  had  said  then  that  it  was  more  nearly  like 
what  he  had  described  than  any  other  castle,  and  that 

III 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

'the  only  mistake  he  had  made  was  in  putting  bears  on 
the  gateway  instead  of  bees.'  There  is  a  fine  wrought- 
iron  gate  at  Grandtully  with  the  figures  of  two  bees, 
forming  a  part  of  the  coat  of  arms  of  the  Stewart  family. 
An  avenue  of  limes  formerly  led  to  this  gate,  but  it  is  no 
longer  used  and  only  two  of  the  trees  remain.  Scott  was 
always  cautious  about  admitting  any  connection  of  his 
writings  with  definite  'originals,'  but  was  ever  ready  to 
himiour  those  who  fancied  they  saw  certain  resem- 
blances. It  is  curious  that  he  does  not  mention  either 
Traquair  House  or  CraighaU  in  his  note,  though  both 
were  identified  as  'originals'  during  his  lifetime.  No 
doubt,  consciously  or  imconsdously,  he  wove  into  his 
novel  partial  descriptions  of  both,  as  well  as  of  Grand- 
tuUy,  while  the  houses  which  he  particularly  mentions 
also  furnished  some  of  the  details. 

The  historical  value  of  '  Waverley '  lies  in  its  picture 
of  the  rising  of  the  Highland  clans  in  favour  of  Charles 
Edward  Stuart,  called  the  'Young  Pretender'  by  the 
supporters  of  the  reigning  king,  but  affectionately 
known  among  his  Scottish  adherents  as  '  Bonnie  Prince 
CharUe.'  The  ambitious  young  man,  the  grandson  of 
James  H,  left  France  in  the  summer  of  1745  in  a  small 
vessel,  with  only  seven  friends,  and  landed  on  one  of  the 
Hebridean  Islands.  Before  the  end  of  August  he  had 
raised  his  standard  in  the  valley  of  Glenfinnan  and  found 
himself  at  the  head  of  an  army  of  fifteen  hundred  men, 
chiefly  of  the  clans  of  MacDonald  and  Cameron.  He 
soon  made  a  tritunphant  march  to  Edinburgh,  where  he 
established  himself  in  the  Palace  of  Holyrood,  which 
the  Stuart  family  had  already  made  famous.  On  Tues- 
day, the  17th  of  September,  he  caused  the  proclamation 

112 


WAVERLEY 

of  his  father,  'the  Old  Pretender,'  as  King  James  VIII, 
to  be  read  by  the  heralds  at  the  old  Market  Cross  in 
Parliament  Square.  The  people  crowded  around  the 
'Young  Chevalier,'  eager  to  kiss  his  hand  or  even  to 
touch  for  a  single  instant  the  Scottish  tartan  which  he 
wore.  So  great  was  the  crowd  that  he  was  compelled 
to  call  for  his  horse ,  for  otherwise  he  could  make  no 
progress.  It  is  said  that  his  noble  appearance  so  won 
the  hearts  of  all  who  beheld  him  that  before  he  reached 
the  palace  the  polish  of  his  boots  was  dimmed  by  the 
kisses  of  the  multitude. 

That  night  the  old  palace  reawakened  to  something 
of  its  former  brilHancy,  on  the  occasion  of  a  great  ball, 
given  by  the  Prince.  The  old  picture  gallery,  with  its 
array  of  queer  portraits  of  long-forgotten  Scottish  kings, 
was  a  scene  of  glittering  splendour.  The  long-deserted 
halls,  now  brilliant  with  a  thousand  lights,  were  crowded 
with  an  assembly  of  men  of  education  and  fortune,  ac- 
companied by  their  ladies  in  gowns  of  such  elegance  as 
the  confusion  of  the  times  might  permit.  Mingling  with 
these  representations  of  the  Jacobean  gentry  of  Edin- 
burgh were  the  handsomely  arrayed  officers  of  the  clans, 
the  Highland  gentlemen  of  importance,  with  their  many 
coloured  plaids  and  sashes,  their  broadswords  glittering 
with  heavy  silver  plate  and  inlaid  work,  and  all  the  other 
elegant  appurtenances  for  which  the  picturesque  High- 
land costume  offered  abundant  scope.  In  the  chapter  on 
the  Ball,  Scott  merely  introduced  into  an  historic  assem- 
blage two  handsome  women.  Flora  Maclvor  and  Rose 
Bradwardine,  and  two  men,  Fergus  Maclvor  and  Ed- 
ward Waverley. 

The  palace  is  to-day  much  the  same  as  it  was  in  the 

"3 


,^  THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

time  of  the  Prince,  though  the  adjoining  abbey  is  now 
roofless  and  very  much  more  of  a  ruin.  A  walk  through 
the  Canongate,  from  Holjrood  to  the  Market  Cross, 
would  give  one  a  very  fair  idea  of  the  street  through 
which  Fergus  Maclvor  and  Waverley  passed  to  the 
lodgings  of  the  former  in  the  house  of  the  buxom  Widow 
Flockhart,  where  Waverley  received  his  new  Highland 
costume  from  the  hands  of  James  of  the  Needle.  At  the 
other  end  of  the  town,  beneath  the  castle,  is  St.  Cuth- 
bert's  Church,  then  called  the  West  Kirk,  where  the 
honest  Presbyterian  clergyman,  MacVicar,  preached 
every  Sunday  and  prayed  for  the  House  of  Hanover  in 
spite  of  the  fact  that  many  of  the  Jacobites  were  present. 
In  one  of  those  petitions  he  referred  to  the  fact  that  *a 
young  man  has  recently  come  among  us  seeking  an 
earthly  crown'  and  prayed  that  he  might  speedily  be 
granted  a  heavenly  one! 

Much  of  the  material  for  'Waverley'  was  stored  up  in 
the  retentive  memory  of  the  novelist  when  he  was  a  mere 
boy.  At  six  years  of  age  he  was  taken  for  a  visit  to  Pres- 
tonpans.  If  the  old  veteran  of  the  German  wars,  Dal- 
getty,  whom  he  met  here  and  who  found  a  ready  listener 
in  the  bright-eyed  little  boy,  was  able  to  tell  the  story  of 
the  battle  in  anything  like  a  graphic  manner,  it  must 
have  made  a  profound  impression  upon  the  mind  of  a  lad 
who  had  already  learned  to  fight  the  battles  of  Scotland 
with  miniature  armies  of  pebbles  and  shells.  On  one  side 
was  an  army  of  Highlanders,  the  chief  men  of  each  clan 
proudly  dressed  in  their  distinctive  tartans.  They  were 
tall,  vigorous,  hardy  men,  all  proud  of  their  ancestry, 
each  capable  of  deeds  of  individual  daring  and  courage, 
but  all  loyal  to  their  chiefs  and  to  their  temporary  leader, 

114 


WAVERLEY 

Prince  Charles  Edward  Stuart.  They  were  not  only 
well  dressed  but  well  armed,  each  man  having  a  broad- 
sword, target,  dirk,  and  fusee,  or  flintlock  gun,  and  per- 
haps a  steel  pistol.  These  were  the  gentlemen  of  the 
Highlands.  Contrasting  strangely  with  them  and  form- 
ing the  larger  part  of  the  army  was  the  rear  guard,  a 
motley  crowd,  bearing  every  appearance  of  extreme  pov- 
erty. They  were  rough,  uncouth,  half-naked  men  of 
savage  aspect,  armed  with  whatever  weapon  could  be 
most  easily  obtained.  Some  had  pole-axes ;  some  carried 
scythes,  securely  fastened  to  the  ends  of  poles;  a  few 
had  old  guns  or  swords;  while  many  had  only  dirks  and 
bludgeons.  But]all  had  the  fighting  spirit  and  a  keen  de- 
sire for  plunder.  To  complete  this  curious  but  formidable 
array,  there  was  an  old  iron  cannon,  dragged  along  by  a 
string  of  Highland  ponies.  This  constituted  the  entire 
artillery  of  the  army  and  it  could  only  be  used  for  firing 
signals,  yet  the  leaders  allowed  it  to  be  retained  because 
of  the  belief  on  the  part  of  the  men  in  the  ranks  that  it 
would  in  some  miraculous  way  contribute  to  their  ex- 
pected victory. 

On  the  English  side  a  complete  army  of  infantry,  cav- 
alry, and  artillery,  well  equipped  and  disciplined,  con- 
fronted the  Highland  hordes.  As  they  wheeled  into  line 
the  fixed  bayonets  of  the  infantry  glistened  in  the  sun 
like  'successive  hedges  of  steel.'  These,  with  the  trains 
of  artillery  and  troop  after  troop  of  well-equipped  dra- 
goons, presented  a  formidable  appearance.  But  they 
struck  no  terror  into  the  hearts  of  the  wild  'petticoat- 
men.'  With  terrific  yells  the  forces  of  the  rebellious 
Scotchmen  rushed  into  battle.  Discipline  and  order 
gave  way  before  the  impact  of  savage  zeal,  and  panic 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

seized  the  English  anny.  The  result  was  what  the  child 
Scott  always  contrived  to  accomplish  in  his  mimic  battles 
of  pebbles,  —  the  complete  victory  of  the  Scots  and  the 
utter  rout  of  their  enemy.  There  is  now  little  to  be  seen 
on  the  battle-field.  The  old  thorn  tree,  which  was  once 
the  central  landmark,  has  almost  disappeared.  The  fer- 
tile fields,  once  trampled  by  hostile  armies,  have  given 
way  to  railroad  tracks  and  unsightly  collieries.  Colonel 
Gardiner's  house,  however,  where  that  hero  died  after  re- 
ceiving a  mortal  wound  upon  the  battle-field,  still  remains 
standing,  and  in  front,  at  the  end  of  a  fine  avenue  of 
trees,  is  a  plain  but  dignified  monument  to  his  memory. 
The  principal  incident  of  the  battle,  as  told  in  *  Wav- 
erley,'  is  based  upon  a  true  story,  which  Scott  heard  from 
Alexander  Stewart  of  Invemahyle,  on  one  of  his  early 
visits  to  the  Highlands.  When  the  Highlanders  in  1745 
attacked  the  army  of  Sir  John  Cope  at  Prestonpans, 
Stewart  was  one  of  the  leaders  in  charge.  Noticing  an 
officer  of  the  English  army  standing  alone,  sword  in 
hand,  too  proud  to  fly  with  the  others,  he  called  on  him 
to  surrender.  The  officer  answered  by  a  thrust  of  his 
sword  which  Stewart  received  in  his  target,  breaking  the 
blade.  A  huge  Highlander  rushed  up  to  the  defenceless 
man  with  lifted  battle-axe,  and  in  another  moment 
would  have  killed  his  victim  but  for  the  chivalrous  inter- 
ference of  Stewart,  who  protected  him  from  injury,  took 
care  of  his  personal  property,  and  finally  secured  his 
release  on  parole.  This  officer  was  a  Scotch  gentleman, 
serving  in  the  King's  army,  whose  name  was  Colonel 
Whitefoord.  Stewart  later  paid  him  a  visit  at  his  home 
in  Ayrshire.  After  the  battle  of  Culloden  had  put  an 
end  to  the  hopes  of  Prince  Charles  and  his  loyal  Scottish 

116 


WAVERLEY 

friends,  when  those  who  had  supported  the  rebellion 
were  in  grave  danger  of  death  and  the  confiscation  of 
their  property,  Colonel  Whitefoord  took  occasion  to 
repay  the  debt  to  Mr.  Stewart.  He  called  in  person  on 
the  Duke  of  Cumberland  to  plead  for  his  friend's  life,  or 
at  least  for  the  protection  of  his  family  and  property. 
On  receiving  a  positive  refusal,  he  took  his  commission 
from  his  pocket,  and  laying  it  on  the  table  before  the 
Duke,  with  great  emotion  begged  leave  to  retire  from  the 
service  of  a  king  who  did  not  know  how  to  be  merciful 
to  a  vanquished  enemy.  The  Duke  was  deeply  affected 
and  granted  the  desired  protection.  It  was  none  too 
soon,  for  the  troops  were  even  then  beginning  to  plun- 
der the  country  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  Inverna- 
hyle's  home.  That  unfortunate  gentleman  had  lain  for 
many  days  concealed  in  a  cave,  his  food  being  brought 
by  one  of  his  daughters,  a  child  so  young  that  she  was 
not  suspected  by  the  soldiers. 

The  rescue  of  Colonel  Talbot  by  Waverley  and  the 
subsequent  friendly  assistance  of  that  officer,  upon 
which  so  much  of  the  plot  of  the  novel  depends,  was 
founded  upon  this  incident,  which  the  old  soldier  related 
to  Walter  Scott,  a  boy  of  fifteen.  It  will  be  remembered 
that  Scott's  first  Highland  visit  took  place  in  1786,  so 
that  Stewart,  who  was  'out'  in  the  rebellion  of  171 5, 
must  have  been  a  very  old  man  when  he  told  the  story. 
The  lad,  who  no  doubt  listened  eagerly,  absorbing  every 
detail  into  his  extraordinary  memory,  did  not  use  the 
tale  until  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century  later. 

An  example  of  Scott's  remarkable  way  of  remember- 
ing and  reproducing  the  little  details  of  the  stories  he 
heard  is  the  use  he  made  of  Stewart's  experience  in  hid- 

117 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

ing  in  a  cave.  The  Baron  of  Bradwardine  is  supposed  to 
have  concealed  himself  in  similar  manner  and  to  have 
had  important  assistance  from  'Davie  Gellatley,'  the 
Baron's  'natural'  or  fool,  who  was  'no  sae  silly  as  folk 
tak  him  for.'  Colonel  Stewart,  a  grandson  of  Stewart 
of  Invemahyle,  in  his  book  on  the  Highlands,  points  out 
that  while  some  gentlemen  'who  had  been  out'  in  the 
rebellion  were  obUged  to  conceal  themselves  in  the  woods 
near  his  grandfather's  house,  they  were  suppUed  with 
food  and  other  necessaries  by  one  of  these  poor,  half- 
witted creatures,  who  showed  an  extraordinary  sagacity 
as  well  as  fidelity  in  protecting  the  friends  of  his  patron. 
'Davie  Gellatley'  was  a  type  common  enough,  espe- 
cially in  the  coxmtry  districts  of  Scotland,  a  century  ago. 
These  rustic  fools  were  usually  treated  with  kindness, 
the  good  people  feeling  a  sense  of  duty  to  help  those  to 
whom  Providence  had  denied  their  full  share  of  mental 
pyower.  They  frequently  possessed  a  certain  sagacity  or 
cxmning,  combined  with  sly  humour,  which  enabled  them 
at  times  to  make  quick  and  imexpected  answers,  causing 
much  amusement  and  wonder.  Such  a  man  was  Daft 
Jock  Gray,  who  lived  on  a  farm  in  Ettrick  and  was  well 
known  to  all  the  Border  people.  He  was  a  frequent 
visitor  at  Ashestiel,  where  he  entertained  the  family  with 
his  wild  snatches  of  songs  and  ballads  and  his  eccentric 
performances.  Jock  was  once  travelling  with  a  man  of 
his  own  type,  Jamie  Renwick.  When  night  came,  they 
lodged  in  a  convenient  bam.  Jock  could  not  sleep  and 
got  up  and  walked  about  singing  his  wild  and  incoherent 
songs.  This  so  irritated  Jamie  that  he  shouted,  *  Come  to 
your  bed,  ye  skirlin'  deevil !  I  canna  get  a  wink  o'  sleep 
for  ye;  I  daur  say  the  folk  will  think  us  daft!  Od,  if  ye 

ii8 


WAVERLEY 

dinna  come  and  lie  down  this  instant,  I  '11  rise  and  bring 
ye  to  your  senses  wi'  my  rung!'  'Faith,'  says  Jock,  'if  ye 
do  that,  it  will  be  mair  than  ony  ither  body  has  ever 
been  able  to  do.'  * 

The  visit  of  Waverley  to  the  cave  of  Donald  Bean 
Lean  was  based  upon  another  incident,  told  to  Scott  on 
a  later  excursion  to  the  Highlands  in  1793,  when  he 
stopped  for  a  time  at  Tullibody,  the  residence  of  Mr. 
Abercrombie,  the  grandfather  of  his  intimate  friend  and 
companion,  George  Abercrombie.  The  old  gentleman 
related  how  he  had  been  compelled  to  make  a  visit  to  the 
wild  retreats  of  Rob  Roy,  where  he  was  entertained  with 
great  courtesy  by  that  Highland  chief  in  a  cave  very 
much  hke  that  described  in  Waverley.  He  was  treated 
to  a  dinner  of '  coUops '  or  steaks,  cut  from  his  own  cattle, 
which  he  recognized  hanging  by  the  heels  in  the  cavern. 
He  found  it  necessary  to  arrange  for  the  payment  of 
blackmail  to  the  cateran,  which  insured  the  protection 
of  his  herds  against  not  only  Rob  Roy  himself,  but  all 
other  freebooters. 

We  found  just  such  a  cave  on  the  east  shore  of  Loch 
Lomond  in  the  heart  of  the  Rob  Roy  country.  It  is 
reached  by  rowing  from  Liversnaid  about  a  mile  up  the 
lake,  and  clambering  over  some  rough  rocks  to  the  open- 
ing. It  is  known  as  Rob  Roy's  Cave  and  gave  an  excel- 
lent idea  of  the  place  where  Waverley  was  entertained 
by  Donald  Bean  Lean  and  the  good-natured  Highland 
girl,  his  daughter,  who  thought  nothing  of  walking  four 
miles  to  'borrow'  enough  eggs  for  his  breakfast.  From 
the  rocks  we  enjoyed  a  superb  view  of  Loch  Lomond, 

^  From  Illustrations  oj  the  Author  of  Waverley,  by  Robert  Cham- 
bers. 

119 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

strongly  suggesting  the  Highland  loch  of  'Waverley,' 
'surrounded  by  heathy  and  savage  mountains,  on  the 
crests  of  which  the  morning  mist  was  still  sleeping.'  I 
was  fortimate  enough  to  get  a  good  photograph  of  these 
mists  as  they  rose  above  the  simimit  of  Ben  Vorlich  on 
the  opp)osite  side  of  the  lake. 

On  this  same  excursion  to  the  Highlands,  Scott  learned 
from  another  old  gentleman  something  of  the  history  of 
Doxme  Castle,  the  ruins  of  which  now  stand  on  the  banks 
of  the  Ardoch,  a  tributary  of  the  Tieth,  some  ten  miles 
or  more  north  of  Stirling.  We  found  the  most  beautiful 
view  from  the  bridge  on  the  main  road,  crossing  the 
Tieth.  The  ruins  show  that  the  castle  was  once  of  great 
extent.  It  was  built  by  Murdoch,  Duke  of  Albany, 
while  governor  of  Scotland  in  the  exile  of  James  I.  When 
James  returned  in  1423,  he  took  vengeance  upon  the 
unfaithful  guardian  of  his  kingdom  and  beheaded  Mur- 
doch on  the  Heading  Hill  of  Stirling  Castle.  The  Scot- 
tish monarchs,  or  several  of  them,  utilized  the  castle  as  a 
dower-house  for  their  queen  consorts.  James  II  in  145 1 
bestowed  it  upon  his  queen,  Mary  of  Gueldres;  James 
III  gave  it  to  his  consort,  Margaret  of  Denmark,  in  147 1 ; 
and  James  IV  presented  it  to  Queen  Margaret  in  1503, 
making  it  one  of  his  royal  residences.  In  the  year  1745 
it  came  into  the  possession  of  Charles  Edward,  the 
Young  Pretender,  who  used  it  as  a  prison.  Scott  is  quite 
consistent  with  the  facts  of  history,  therefore,  when  he 
causes  Waverley  to  be  detained  there  on  his  way  to  Holy- 
rood  Palace. 

One  other  incident  of  this  same  Highland  excursion 
must  be  mentioned.  It  was  then  that  Scott  first  visited 
the  home  of  his  friend,  Buchanan,  the  Laird  of  Cambus- 

120 


WAVERLEY 

more.  Francis  Buchanan,  the  great  uncle  of  the  young 
laird,  was  carried  away  from  this  house  to  Carlisle,  where 
he  was  hanged  on  a  charge  of  treason,  this  estate  and  an- 
other at  Strathyre  being  confiscated.  The  property  was 
later  restored  to  the  family,  by  whom  it  is  still  owned. 
The  account  of  the  execution  of  Fergus  Maclvor  at 
Carlisle  Castle  was  based  upon  this  story,  as  told  to  Scott 
on  the  porch  of  Cambusmore  by  his  friend  Buchanan. 
'  Another  spot  in  the  Highlands  of  which  Scott  was 
very  fond  is  the  little  waterfall  of  Lediard.  We  foimd  the 
place  because  we  were  looking  for  it,  but  the  casual 
tourist  would  not  be  hkely  to  see  it.  It  is  reached  from 
the  road  leading  along  the  north  shore  of  Loch  Ard,  west 
of  Aberfoyle  and  south  of  the  Trossachs.  I  found  it  nec- 
essary to  walk  through  a  lane  to  a  near-by  farmhouse 
and  then  go  up  a  slight  incline  by  a  narrow  winding  path 
along  a  little  brook  until  I  came  to  a  thick  wood.  There 
the  rush  of  the  waters  could  be  plainly  heard,  and  guided 
by  the  sound,  I  was  able  after  some  search  to  find  a  rock 
where  I  could  place  my  camera  for  a  view  of  the  little 
cascade.  It  is  not  remarkable  either  for  the  height  of 
the  fall  or  for  the  volume  of  water,  but  its  charm  comes 
from  the  dense  foliage  through  which  the  sunlight  dances 
and  sparkles,  from  the  rough  rocks  clothed  in  ferns  and 
moss  and  wild  flowers,  except  where  the  fantastic  play  of 
the  streamlet  keeps  them  bare,  and  from  the  deep  pool 
at  the  bottom  filled  to  the  brim  with  pure,  cold  water. 
This  exquisite  scene  was  chosen  by  Scott  for  one  of  his 
most  romantic  pictures  —  the  meeting  of  Waverley  and 
Flora  Maclvor,  when  the  graceful  and  beautiful  daugh- 
ter of  the  Highlands,  blending  her  voice  with  the  music 
of  the  waterfall  and  the  accompaniment  of  the  harp, 

121 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

sang  the  Celtic  verses  so  full  of  devotion  to  her  native 
land  and  the  cause  of  the  Prince,  calling  to  the  clans:  — 

For  honour,  for  freedom,  for  vengeance  awake! 

It  is  interesting  to  compare  the  character  of  Flora  Mac- 
Ivor  and  her  devotion  to  the  fortunes  of  the  exiled 
Stuarts  with  that  of  the  famous  Flora  MacDonald.  In 
the  circumstances  of  their  environment  there  is  no  simi- 
larity between  the  two  heroines,  one  of  fiction  and  the 
other  of  real  life.  Flora  MacDonald  was  bom  in  the 
Island  of  South  Uist  and  brought  in  infancy  to  the 
neighbouring  island  of  Skye.  Except  for  a  brief  visit  to 
Argyleshire,  she  never  left  those  islands  until  after  the 
stirring  events  which  made  her  famous.  She  did  not 
meet  the  Prince  until  she  engaged  in  her  efforts  to  rescue 
him,  after  the  battle  of  Culloden. 

In  personal  characteristics  there  is  a  very  striking 
resemblance.  Flora  MacDonald,  though  reared  in  the 
solitude  of  a  remote  island,  acquired  an  excellent  educa- 
tion, to  which  she  added  the  natural  love  of  poetry  and 
romance  peculiar  to  her  people.  'There  was  nothing 
imfeminine,  either  in  her  form  or  in  her  manners,  to 
detract  from  the  charm  of  her  great  natural  vivacity,  or 
give  a  tone  of  hardness  to  her  strong  good  sense,  calm 
Judgment,  and  p)ower  of  decision.  Her  voice  was  sweet 
and  low;  the  harsher  accents  of  the  Scottish  tongue  were 
not  to  be  detected  in  her  discourse.'^  She  always  mani- 
fested a  perfect  modesty  and  propriety  of  behaviour 
coupled  with  a  noble  simplicity  of  character  which  led 
her  to  regard  with  surprise  the  many  tributes  of  praise 
which  her  conduct  merited.  These  were  the  characteris- 
^  From  a  Memoir,  by  Mrs.  Thomson,  1846. 


WAVERLEY 

tics  with  which  Scott  invested  his  heroine.  Flora  Mac- 
Donald's  family  belonged  to  the  clan  of  MacDonald  of 
Clanronald,  and  one  of  Scott's  most  valued  friends, 
Colonel  Ronaldson  MacDonnel  of  Glengarry,^  was  a 
descendant  of  the  same  clan.  He  was  an  eccentric  char- 
acter who  tried  to  play  the  chieftain  and  thought,  felt, 
and  acted  about  as  he  might  have  done  a  hundred  years 
earlier,  but  could  not  do  in  his  own  time  without  provok- 
ing censure  and  ridicule.  He  even  attempted  to  have 
himself  recognized  as  the  chief  of  the  whole  clan  of  Clan- 
ronald, though  his  own  ancestors  had  been  imable  to 
establish  the  right.  Scott  regarded  him  as  a  treasure, 
'full  of  information  as  to  the  history  of  his  own  clan,  and 
the  manners  and  customs  of  the  Highlanders  in  general.' 
In  his  effort  to  make  Fergus  Maclvor,  Vich  Ian  Vohr, 
a  t)^ical  leader  of  one  of  the  Highland  clans,  Scott  no 
doubt  received  considerable  help  from  Glengarry,  whose 
castle  of  Invergarry  was  on  Loch  Oich,  in  Inverness,  in 
the  very  heart  of  the  country  of  the  rebellious  chiefs  and 
only  a  few  miles  distant  from  Culloden,  the  scene  of 
their  final  defeat. 

Cosmo  ComyneBradwardine,  Esq.,  the  pompous,  tire- 
some, but  laughable  bore,  with  his  endless  quotations  in 
Latin,  the  honourable  soldier,  the  excellent  father  and 
the  lovable  friend,  is  one  of  Scott's  most  interesting 
characters.  Though  an  original  creation,  there  was 
more  than  one  man  of  his  time  who  might  have  sat  for 
the  portrait  of  the  brave,  honourable,  kind-hearted 
gentleman  who  spoke  Latin  as  fluently  as  his  native 
Scotch  dialect  and  who  loved  his  *Livy'  so  much  that 

'  It  was  to  this  good  friend  that  Scott  was  indebted  for  the  gift  of  his 
famous  staghound  Maida. 

133 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

after  escaping  from  some  soldiers  who  had  arrested 
him,  he  risked  recapture  in  order  to  return  and  secure 
the  beloved  volume  which  he  had  forgotten  in  his  haste. 
The  absurd  old  Baron  is  represented  as  insisting  upon 
his  right  and  duty,  under  a  charter  of  Robert  Bruce,  by 
which  his  lands  were  held,  to  pull  off  the  boots  of  the 
King.  Two  diflSculties  present  themselves:  —  first  that 
Prince  Charles  is  not  the  King,  and  second  that  he  does 
not  wear  boots.  But  it  is  decided  that  Charles  represents 
the  King,  and  that  a  service  performed  to  him  is  done  for 
the  King;  also  that  brogues  are  a  legitimate  substitute 
for  boots.  So  with  the  good-natured  consent  of  the 
Prince,  the  ridiculous  ceremony  takes  place  with  due 
solemnity.  This  incident,  fantastic  as  it  seems,  is  only 
an  example  of  the  way  in  which  certain  Scottish  tenures 
were  held.  Mrs.  Hughes,  of  UflSngton,  says  that  Scott 
told  her  of  a  similar  tenure  imder  which  the  Howistons 
of  Braehead  held  their  lands,  namely,  by  presenting  a 
basin  and  ewer  with  water  and  a  towel  for  the  King  to 
wash  whenever  he  came  to  Holyrood. 

The  Laird  of  Balmawhapple  was  a  purely  fictitious 
character,  but  the  method  of  his  death  at  Prestonpans 
was  one  of  the  true  stories  told  to  Scott  as  a  child  when 
he  first  visited  the  battle-field.  A  brave  and  honourable 
gentleman,  one  of  the  few  cavalrymen  who  followed 
Prince  Charles,  was  pursuing  some  fugitive  dragoons. 
Suddenly  discovering  that  they  were  followed  only  by 
one  man  and  his  two  servants,  the  soldiers  turned  and 
cut  down  the  courageous  Highlander. 

As  in  many  of  Scott's  novels,  the  hero  is  less  attrac- 
tive than  some  of  the  subordinate  characters.  The  author 
himself  characterized  Edward  Waverley,  somewhat  too 

124 


WAVERLEY 

severely,  as  a  'sneaking  piece  of  imbecility'  and  added, 
*if  he  had  married  Flora,  she  would  have  set  him  up 
upon  the  chimneypiece,  as  Count  Borowlaski's  wife  used 
to  do  with  him.'  Yet  in  the  third  chapter,  where  the 
subject  is  Waverley's  education,  he  is  really  giving  a 
bit  of  autobiography.  He  refers  to  Edward's  power  of 
imagination  and  love  of  Hterature  and  mentions  the 
pleasure  which  his  uncle's  large  library  ajfforded  him. 
'He  had  read  and  stored,  in  a  memory  of  uncommon 
tenacity,  much  curious  though  ill-arranged  and  mis- 
cellaneous information.  In  English  literature  he  was 
master  of  Shakespeare  and  Milton,  of  our  earlier  dra- 
matic authors,  of  many  picturesque  and  interesting 
passages  from  our  old  historical  chronicles,  and  was  par- 
ticularly well  acquainted  with  Spenser,  Drayton,  and 
other  poets,  who  have  exercised  themselves  on  roman- 
tic fiction.' 

*  Waverley '  will  always  be  remembered  for  its  graphic 
picture  of  the  Scottish  Highlands  in  the  period  just  be- 
fore they  ceased  to  have  a  distinctive  individual  exis- 
tence, and  for  the  portrait  of  the  Young  Pretender,  who 
in  'the  affair  of  1745'  achieved  such  a  remarkable  hold 
upon  the  affections  of  the  Scottish  people.  Scott  pic- 
tures the  young  Prince  in  the  most  brilliant  period  of  his 
career,  and  if  he  does  so  in  colours  more  attractive 
than  his  character  deserves,  it  must  be  remembered 
that  these  were  the  traits  which  won  the  love  of  his  fol- 
lowers and  by  which  alone  that  affection  can  be  ex- 
plained. The  excesses  of  later  years  had  not  yet  marred 
the  fine  promise  of  youth,  which,  under  happier  circum- 
stances, might  have  developed  into  a  higher  type  of 
manhood. 


CHAPTER   IX 

GUY   MA1>JNERING 

For  the  principal  scenery  of  Scott's  second  novel,  we 
found  it  desirable  to  change  our  headquarters  to  the 
city  of  Dumfries,  a  royal  burgh  of  great  antiquity,  on 
the  banks  of  the  river  Nith.  A  mile  or  more  to  the  north, 
where  the  Cluden  flows  into  the  Nith,  are  the  pictur- 
esque ruins  of  Lincluden  Abbey,  to  which  Robert  Bums 
made  many  a  pilgrimage.  His  favourite  walk  was  along 
the  opposite  bank  of  the  stream,  and  here,  at  the  close  of 
a  summer's  day,  he  would  promenade  in  the  twilight, 
enjoying  the  calm  of  the  evening  while  he  composed  his 
lyrics.  Several  miles  farther  north  is  Ellisland,  where 
Bums  endeavoured  to  combine  the  pursuit  of  farming 
with  the  collection  of  the  king's  revenue  in  the  excise 
service,  and  incidentally  'met  the  Muses'  to  the  extent 
of  producing  *Tam  o'  Shanter'  and  several  other  well- 
known  poems. 

South  of  the  city  the  Nith  is  a  tidal  river,  gradually 
broadening  until  it  becomes  an  arm  of  the  Solway  Firth. 
Two  fine  old  ruins  guard  its  outlet,  one  on  either  side. 
On  the  west  is  Sweetheart  Abbey,  a  beautiful  ruin  in  an 
excellent  state  of  preservation.  Its  name  comes  from 
a  pretty  story.  The  Lady  Devorgilla,  mother  of  John 
Baliol,  who  became  King  of  Scotland,  founded  the  abbey 
in  1275  and  erected  a  tomb  near  the  high  altar.  At  her 
husband's  death,  six  years  before,  she  had  caused  his 
heart  to  be  embalmed  and  enclosed  in  a  casket  adorned 

126 


GUY  MANNERING 

with  precious  stones,  which  she  ever  after  carried  with 
her  wherever  she  went.  She  gave  orders  that  at  her 
death  her  body  should  be  laid  in  the  tomb  which  she  had 
built  and  that  the  precious  casket  should  be  laid  on  her 
breast.  Thus  the  two  'sweethearts'  were  to  rest  to- 
gether. In  the  opening  chapter  of  the  novel,  Scott  refers 
to  some  monastic  ruins  which  the  young  English  gentle- 
man, Guy  Mannering,  had  spent  the  day  in  sketching. 
Doubtless  Sweetheart  Abbey  was  in  his  mind,  or  possi- 
bly Lincluden. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  or  of  the  bay,  for  it 
is  difl&cult  to  tell  where  the  river  ends  and  the  Solway 
begins,  is  the  fine  old  ruin  of  Caerlaverock  Castle,  the 
original  of  'Ellangowan  Auld  Place,'  the  ancestral  home 
of  the  Bertram  family  and  the  place  around  which  re- 
volves the  whole  plot  of  *  Guy  Mannering.' 

The  day  after  our  arrival  at  Dumfries  we  set  out  to 
examine  this  ruin,  stopping  first  at  Glencaple,  a  small 
town  on  the  Nith  just  below  the  place  where  the  river 
begins  to  widen  into  an  arm  of  the  sea.  It  was  low  tide, 
and  there  was  a  sandy  beach  of  extraordinary  width 
which  the  receding  waters  had  sculptured  in  waving  lines 
of  strange  contour.  The  sky  above  was  filled  with  fleecy 
clouds,  and  in  the  distance  the  summit  of  Criffell  reared 
its  height  in  a  majestic  background.  It  was  on  such  a 
coast  that  Van  Beest  Brown,  or  Harry  Bertram,  landed 
when  he  returned  to  Scotland  after  many  years,  and 
found  himself  at  the  ruins  of  the  house  of  his  ancestors. 
The  locality  might  be  taken  for  the  original  of  Portan- 
ferry,  if  geographical  relations  were  to  be  considered. 

Caerlaverock  Castle  is  one  of  the  most  picturesque 
ruins  in  Scotland.  Enough  of  the  original  walls  remain 

127 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

to  show  the  unusual  extent  of  the  building.  It  was 
triangular  in  form,  with  two  massive  round  turrets  at 
one  angle,  forming  the  entrance,  and  a  single  turret  at 
each  of  the  others.  The  two  entrance  turrets  and  one  of 
the  others  are  still  intact  and  well  preserved.  The  turret 
which  once  stood  at  the  third  angle  has  completely 
disappeared.  Between  the  front  towers  is  a  very  tall 
arched  doorway,  now  reached  by  a  little  wooden  bridge 
over  the  moat.  Many  of  these  old  ruins  have  mounds 
showing  where  the  moat  used  to  be,  but  this  is  one  of 
the  few  in  which  the  water  still  remains.  For  centu- 
ries the  lofty  turrets  have  been  appropriated  by  rooks, 
and  the  moat  is  now  a  safe  retreat  for  geese. 

The  inner  court  was  three  stories  high,  containing  a 
magnificent  suite  of  apartments,  all  richly  sculptured. 
Behind  these  was  a  great  banqueting-hall,  ninety  feet 
long,  extending  between  the  two  rear  towers  along  the 
base  of  the  triangle.  There  was  a  great  dais  and  ample 
arrangements  for  the  seating  of  all  guests  of  high  and 
low  degree.  Judging  from  an  ancient  document,  the 
castle  was  richly  furnished.  According  to  this  inventory, 
there  were  eighty-six  beds,  five  of  them  so  sumptuous 
that  they  were  valued  at  £i  lo  sterling  each.  There  were 
forty  carpets,  and  a  library  worth  more  than  £200. 
These  figures  would  not,  perhaps,  seem  large  to  a  twen- 
tieth-century millionaire,  but  they  indicate  a  scale  of 
magnificence  almost  without  parallel  in  the  period  when 
this  castle  flourished. 

Caerlaverock  was  in  existence  as  early  as  the  sixth 
century,  when  it  was  founded  by  Lewarch  Og.  From 
him  it  received  the  name  of  Caer  Lewarch  Og,  which  in 
Gaelic  signifies '  the  city  or  fortress  of  Lewarch  Og.'  This 

128 


GUY  MANNERING 

was  subsequently  corrupted  to  Caer-laverock.  In  the 
beginning  of  the  fourteenth  century  it  was  besieged  and 
captured  by  Edward  I  and  recovered  by  Robert  Bruce, 
changing  hands  twice  again  during  the  wars  for  inde- 
pendence that  ensued.  Murdoch,  Duke  of  Albany,  who 
was  arrested  for  treason  on  the  return  of  James  I  from 
exile,  was  imprisoned  in  one  of  these  towers,  and  the 
castle  was  the  residence  of  James  V  when  he  heard  the 
news  that  broke  his  heart,  the  defeat  of  his  forces  at 
Solway  Moss  and  the  serious  disaffection  of  his  nobles. 

On  the  day  of  our  visit  the  ruin  made  a  charming 
picture.  The  sky  was  partly  filled  with  cumulus  clouds 
of  a  foamy,  filmy  whiteness  through  the  open  spaces  of 
which  the  sun  was  shining  brightly.  The  clear  water  of 
the  moat  reflected  the  azure  tint  of  the  heavens,  so  that 
the  old  niin,  its  turrets  and  walls  thickly  covered  with 
the  deep  green  of  the  ivy,  was  clearly  defined  against  a 
background  of  white,  bordered  above  and  below  with 
shades  of  the  loveliest  blue.  The  dry,  yellow  grass  of  the 
field  in  the  foreground,  the  green  rushes  bordering  the 
moat,  some  purple  flowers  at  the  base  of  the  turrets  and 
hundreds  of  bright  golden  wallflowers  in  the  broken 
interstices  of  the  walls  completed  a  brilliancy  of  colour 
which  I  have  seldom  seen  equalled  in  any  landscape. 

The  surroundings  of  Caerlaverock  do  not  in  any  way 
correspond  with  the  environments  of  EUangowan  Auld 
Place.  I  had  already  learned,  however,  not  to  depend 
too  much  upon  geographical  considerations.  It  requires 
only  a  superficial  knowledge  of  Scott's  method  of  work 
to  understand  that  while  he  was  a  most  careful  observer 
of  all  that  interested  him  and  wrote  many  accurate 
descriptions  of  scenery,  he  did  not  hesitate  to  use  his 

129 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

material  with  a  free  hand.  It  was  perfectly  simple  for 
him  to  transplant  an  old  ruin,  which  admirably  fitted 
one  requirement  of  the  story,  to  a  rocky  coast,  thirty 
or  forty  miles  away,  where  the  other  necessary  features 
were  to  be  found,  or  even  to  combine  two  different  parts 
of  the  coast  for  his  purpose. 

We  found  it  necessary,  therefore,  to  return  to  Dum- 
fries, for  there  is  no  bridge  below  the  city,  and  there, 
crossing  the  river,  travel  again  to  the  south,  this  time 
on  the  west  shore,  to  the  town  of  Kirkcudbright,  where 
we  stopped  long  enough  to  learn  to  pronounce  the  name 
(' Kir-koo'bry ')  and  to  have  our  lunch.  Then,  continu- 
ing southward,  we  stopped  our  motor  at  Balmae,  the 
country-seat  of  Lady  Selkirk,  and  walked  about  a  mile  to 
the  rocky  coast  of  the  Solway  at  Torr's  Point,  where  we 
could  enjoy  a  superb  view  of  the  Irish  Sea,  the  English 
coast  far  away  on  the  left,  and  the  Isle  of  Man,  faintly 
visible  in  the  distance.  The  coast  is  high  and  rocky.  It  is 
broken  into  many  coves  or  bays,  which  were  a  convenient 
resort  for  pirates  and  smugglers.  It  would  be  easy  to 
imagine  EUangowan  Auld  Place  situated  on  one  of  these 
cliffs,  except  that  some  other  features  have  to  be  taken 
from  another  part  of  the  coast.  Scott's  description  of 
the  smuggling  trade  carried  on  by  Dirk  Hatteraick  and 
others  of  his  kind  was  taken  from  the  local  traditions. 
The  coast,  to  sailors  who  knew  it  well,  offered  many  a 
haven  of  refuge,  but  was  an  extremely  dangerous  place 
for  a  stranger  ship.  There  are  many  stories  current 
regarding  the  exploits  of  Paul  Jones,  who  was  a  native  of 
Kirkcudbright.  After  embracing  the  American  cause 
in  the  War  of  the  Revolution,  he  cruised  in  his  little 
ship,  the  Ranger,  along  the  coasts  of  England  and  Scot- 

Z30 


GUY  MANNERING 

land,  his  familiarity  with  the  Solway  enabling  him  to 
make  use  of  its  numerous  coves  to  excellent  advant- 
age. 

To  complete  the  investigation  of  the  scenery  which 
Scott  supposed  to  be  within  a  mile  of  Ellangowan,  I 
made  another  long  Journey  the  next  day,  taking  the 
train  from  Dumfries  to  Kirkcudbright  and  thence 
driving  westward  by  pony-cart,  through  Gatehouse-of- 
Fleet  to  Ravenshall  Point  on  the  coast  of  Wigtown  Bay. 
Here  we  put  up  the  horse  at  a  farm  and  walked  west- 
ward along  the  shore,  my  driver  acting  as  guide.  Chanc- 
ing to  meet  a  gentleman  whose  family  are  large  land- 
holders in  the  neighbourhood,  I  was  conducted  to  the 
Ganger's  Loup,^  a  clijff  on  the  rocky  coast,  beneath  which 
were  some  huge  rocks  that  had  dislodged  and  fallen  to 
the  shore.  At  this  point  a  revenue  officer  was  once 
attacked  by  smugglers  and  thrown  over  the  cliffs,  dash- 
ing out  his  brains  on  the  ragged  rocks  below.  This  well- 
known  incident  gave  Scott  the  basis  for  his  account  of 
the  death  of  Kennedy.  Standing  on  this  cliff,  my  new- 
found friend  pointed  out  a  notch  in  a  distant  hill,  called 
the  'Nick  of  the  Doon,'  which  he  said  local  tradition 
assigned  as  the  place  where  Meg  Merrilies  pronounced 
her  malediction  upon  the  Laird  of  Ellangowan.  Not 
many  hundred  yards  away  is  the  original  of  Dirk  Hat- 
teraick's  Cave,  so  called  because  it  was  once  used  by 
smugglers  and  particularly  by  a  Dutch  skipper  named 
Yawkins,  who  was  the  prototype  of  Scott's  famous  char- 
acter. To  reach  it  by  direct  Kne  was  impossible,  so  we 
walked  down  the  road  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  crossed  a 
field,  climbed  a  stone  wall,  and  dropped  into  a  thick 

*  A  'Gauger'  is  an  excise  oflScer  and  'Loup'  is  Scottish  for  'leap.' 
131 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

wood.  Here  the  land  sloped  at  an  angle  of  forty-five 
degrees.  The  ground  was  thickly  covered  with  garlic, 
emitting  a  strong  odour.  We  finally  reached  the  rocks 
and  began  a  scramble  worthy  of  a  mountain  goat,  until 
at  last  we  discovered  the  cave.  The  entrance  is  a  narrow 
opening  between  two  great  rocks,  barely  large  enough 
to  admit  a  man  of  moderate  size.  We  could  look  down  a 
steep  incline  of  about  thirty  feet,  full  of  dirt  and  slime. 
It  would  be  very  easy  to  enter,  for  it  would  be  like  push- 
ing a  cork  into  an  empty  bottle.  The  difficulty  would 
be  to  get  the  cork  out.  Having  no  desire  to  experiment, 
I  took  the  guide's  word  for  it,  that  the  cave  is  about 
sixty  feet  long,  from  six  to  twelve  feet  wide,  and  high 
enough  for  a  man  to  stand  erect.  It  would,  therefore, 
afford  plenty  of  room  for  the  crew  of  a  smuggler's  boat 
and  a  large  cargo  of  whiskey  and  other  contraband  stores. 

I  asked  the  driver  to  impersonate  Dirk  Hatteraick  for 
a  few  minutes,  and  he,  good-naturedly,  complied,  crawl- 
ing into  the  opening,  which  he  completely  filled,  and  look- 
ing out  at  me  with  a  pipe  in  his  mouth  and  a  broad  grin. 
I  took  his  picture,  but  his  honest  young  face  and  ami- 
able smile  made  a  very  poor  pose  for  the  desperate  old 
smuggler.  It  served,  however,  to  show  the  small  size 
of  the  opening,  which  might  easily  have  been  con- 
cealed by  shrubbery  or  brushwood. 

Scott's  information  regarding  this  coast  came  from 
Joseph  Train,  a  resident  of  Newton-Stewart,  a  town  in 
Galloway  on  the  river  Cree,  just  above  its  outlet  into 
Wigtown  Bay.  He  was  an  excise  officer  who  performed 
his  duties  faithfully.  He  had  early  in  life  developed  a 
passion  for  antiquarian  research  as  well  as  a  taste  for 
poetry.   With  a  friend  he  had  begun  the  collection 

132 


GUY  MANNERING 

of  material  for  a  History  of  Galloway,  when  he  was 
surprised  and  delighted  to  receive  a  letter  from  Walter 
Scott,  asking  for  some  copies  of  a  poem  which  he  had 
written.  In  a  subsequent  letter  Scott  asked  for  any 
local  traditions  or  legends  which  he  did  not  wish  to 
turn  to  his  own  account,  adding,  'Nothing  interests  me 
so  much  as  local  anecdotes;  and,  as  the  applications  for 
charity  usually  conclude,  the  smallest  donation  will 
be  thankfully  received,' 

Train  immediately  abandoned  the  idea  of  attempt- 
ing any  work  of  original  authorship  and  determined  to 
devote  himself  to  collecting  material  for  the  benefit  of 
one  who  could  make  far  better  use  of  it,  —  a  decision 
in  which  his  friend  acquiesced.  'Upon  receiving  Mr. 
Scott's  letter,'  he  said,  'I  became  still  more  zealous  in 
the  pursuit  of  ancient  lore,  and  being  the  first  person 
who  had  attempted  to  collect  old  stories  in  that  quarter 
with  any  view  to  publication,  I  became  so  noted,  that 
even  beggars,  in  the  hope  of  reward,  came  frequently 
from  afar  to  Newton-Stewart,  to  recite  old  ballads  and 
relate  old  stories  to  me.' 

In  later  years  Train  often  visited  Abbotsford;  a  genu- 
ine affection  sprang  up  between  him  and  the  noveUst; 
he  became  one  of  the  few  who  knew  the  secret  of  the 
authorship  of  'Waverley';  and  no  other  of  the  author's 
many  friends  ever  did  so  much  in  furnishing  him  material 
of  the  kind  he  wanted.  Not  only  stories  and  ballads, 
but  more  tangible  objects  of  antiquarian  interest  were 
picked  up  by  him  and  forwarded  to  his  patron.  One  of 
the  most  interesting  possessions  now  in  the  study  at 
Abbotsford  is  the  Wallace  Chair,  made  from  the  wood 
of  the  house  in  which  Sir  William  Wallace 

133 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

Was  done  to  death  by  felon  hand 
For  guarding  well  his  fathers'  land. 

The  chair  was  made  under  the  direction  of  Train  and 
presented  by  him  to  Sir  Walter  'as  a  small  token  of 
gratitude.' 

Besides  giving  Scott  many  descriptions  of  scenery 
and  much  local  history,  Train  supplied  a  collection  of 
anecdotes  of  the  Galloway  gipsies,  and  a  story  about  an 
astrologer  which  reminded  Scott  of  a  similar  story  he 
had  heard  in  his  youth.  This  tale,  as  related  to  the 
novelist  by  an  old  servant  of  his  father's,  named  John 
MacKinlay,  appears  in  full  in  the  Introduction  to  *  Guy 
Mannering.'  Later  Mr.  Train  put  in  writing  'The  Dur- 
ham Garland,'  a  ballad  which  was  recited  to  him  by  a 
Mrs.  Young,  of  Castle  Douglas,  who  had  been  in  the 
habit  of  repeating  the  verses  to  her  family  once  a  year  in 
order  not  to  forget  them.  It  contains  practically  the 
same  story.  This  old  tale,  reappearing  in  several  differ- 
ent ways,  became  the  basis  of  the  novel.  ^ 

In  January,  1813,  Scott  wrote  to  his  friend,  Morritt, 
mentioning  a  murder  case  in  Galloway  where  the  iden- 
tity of  the  murderer  was  discovered  by  means  of  a  foot- 
print left  upon  the  clay  floor  of  the  cottage  where  the 

*  Another  story,  some  of  the  details  of  which  may  have  suggested  a 
part  of  the  plot,  concerns  the  experiences  of  James  Annesley,  a  full  ac- 
coimt  of  which  appeared  in  The  Gentleman's  Magazine  of  July,  1840, 
and  is  reprinted  in  full  in  Lockhart's  Life  of  Scott,  vol.  v.  Lockhart  says, 
'That  Sir  Walter  must  have  read  the  record  of  this  celebrated  trial,  as 
well  as  Smollett's  edition  of  the  story  in  Peregrine  Pickle,  there  can  be  no 
doubt.'  The  trial  took  place  in  1743.  It  suggested,  perhaps,  something 
of  the  method  by  which  Glossin  undertook  to  deprive  Harry  Bertram  of 
his  rights.  Another  legal  case,  which  came  within  Scott's  own  knowledge 
and  may  have  suggested  some  of  the  details  of  the  novel,  was  related  by 
him  in  a  letter  to  Lady  Abercom.  See  Familiar  Letters  of  Sir  Walter  Scott, 
vol.  I,  p.  292. 

134 


GUY  MANNERING 

death  struggle  took  place.  The  'old  ram-headed  sheriff/ 
nicknamed  'Leatherhead,'  suddenly  became  sagacious. 
He  advertised  that  all  persons  in  the  neighbourhood 
would  be  expected  to  be  present  at  the  burial  of  the  vic- 
tim and  to  attest  their  own  innocence.  This  would  be 
certain  to  include  the  murderer.  When  the  people  were 
assembled  in  the  kirk  he  caused  all  the  doors  to  be  locked, 
and  carefully  measured  the  shoes  of  all  present  until  he 
found  the  guilty  man.  The  method  by  which  the  astute 
Counsellor  Pleydell  trapped  Dirk  Hatteraick  was  clearly 
suggested  by  this  incident. 

It  will  be  seen  from  the  above  that  the  story  was  put 
together  from  fragments  of  Galloway  incidents,  mostly 
supplied  by  Train,  and  from  various  legal  experiences 
known  to  the  author. 

Scott  himself  made  a  visit  to  Dumfries  in  1807,  when 
he  spent  several  days  visiting  Sweetheart  Abbey,  Caer- 
laverock  Castle,  and  other  ancient  buildings.  Mr.  Guth- 
rie Wright,  who  made  the  trip  with  him,  wrote :  ' I  need 
hardly  say  how  much  I  enjoyed  the  journey.  Every  one 
who  had  the  pleasure  of  his  acquaintance  knows  the 
inexhaustible  store  of  anecdote  and  good  humour  he 
possessed.  He  recited  poetry  and  old  legends  from  mom 
imtil  night,  and  in  short  it  is  impossible  that  anything 
could  be  more  delightful  than  his  society.' 

When  Scott  made  his  visit  to  the  English  Lakes  in 
1797,  he  became  impressed  with  the  beauty  of  West- 
moreland and  Cumberland  and  particularly  with  the 
grandeur  of  the  chain  of  moimtains  of  which  Skiddaw 
and  Saddleback  are  the  best  known.  It  was  in  this 
pleasant  country  that  he  placed  the  home  of  Colonel 
Mannering.  It  will  be  remembered  that  Scott  returned 

13s 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

from  that  excursion,  through  Cmnberland  to  Gilsland. 
This  is  the  route  which  he  selected  for  Harry  Bertram 
on  his  return  to  Scotland  after  many  years.  Bertram 
(or  Brown,  as  he  was  then  called)  paused  to  view  the  re- 
mains of  an  old  Roman  wall,  precisely  as  Scott  himself 
had  done.  There  are  many  such  ruins  in  the  vicinity  of 
Gilsland,  all  renmants  of  the  wall  which  it  is  believed 
the  Roman  general  Agricola  built  from  the  Tyne  to  the 
Solway  Firth  about  a.d.  79.  One  of  these  suggested  to 
Scott  the  lines  which  he  addressed  to  a  lady  friend  in  the 
year  of  his  first  visit:  — 

Take  these  flowers,  which,  purple  waving, 

On  the  ruined  rampart  grew, 
Where,  the  sons  of  freedom  braving, 

Rome's  imperial  standards  flew. 

Warriors  from  the  breach  of  danger 

Pluck  no  longer  laurels  there; 
They  but  yield  the  passing  stranger 

Wild-flower  wreaths  for  Beauty's  hair. 

A  few  miles  from  Amboglanna,  the  most  interesting 
of  these  remains,  in  the  village  of  Gilsland,  is  a  neat  Uttle 
building,  occupied  by  a  store,  which  is  pointed  out  as 
'Mump's  Ha'.'  It  has  been  so  much  rebuilt  that  it  now 
suggests  but  little  of  the  disreputable  Border  inn  which 
once  marked  the  site,  nor  does  the  present  well-kept  vil- 
lage suggest  much  of  the  scene  that  was  supposed  to 
greet  the  eyes  of  Bertram  on  his  approach.  The  alehouse 
was  the  resort  of  Border  thieves,  and  its  reputation  was 
so  bad  that  a  man  known  to  possess  a  fair  supply  of 
money  dared  not  remain  overnight.  Tib  Mumps,  the 
landlady,  who  was  secretly  in  league  with  the  freebooters 
who  came  to  her  place,  was  a  real  character;  or  perhaps 

136 


GUY  MANNERING 

it  would  be  better  to  say  there  were  two  women,  either 
of  whom  might  have  served  for  her  prototype.  The 
tavern  was  kept  by  Margaret  Carrick,  who  died  in  17 17 
at  the  age  of  one  himdred  years.  She  was  succeeded  by 
her  granddaughter,  Margaret  Teasdale,  who  lived  to  be 
ninety-eight.  Both  are  buried  in  the  churchyard  of 
Over-Denton,  a  mile  away.  Scott  no  doubt  heard  much 
about  them  both  at  the  time  of  his  visit,  and  also  the 
story  of  'Fighting  CharUe  of  Liddesdale'  which  sug- 
gested some  of  the  material  for  the  e^loits  of  Dandie 
Dinmont. 

Dandie  was  one  of  those  'real  characters'  who  are  not 
'real'  because  there  were  a  dozen  of  him.  In  Scott's  so- 
called  raids  into  Liddesdale,  where  he  'had  a  home  in 
every  farmhouse,'  he  met  many  prototypes  of  Dandie. 
James  Davidson,  one  of  these  worthy  farmers,  pos- 
sessed a  large  family  of  terriers,  all  of  whom  he  named 
Mustard  and  Pepper,  according  as  they  were  yellow  or 
greyish  black.  For  this  reason  and  because  of  his  great 
passion  for  fox-hunting,  the  name  of  Dandie  Dinmont 
became  fixed  upon  him.  Far  from  resenting  it,  Davidson 
considered  that  he  had  achieved  a  great  honour. 

Robert  Shortreed,  Scott's  guide  through  Liddesdale, 
fixed  upon  Willie  Elliott,  of  Millbumholm,  the  first  of 
these  farmers  whom  Scott  visited,  as  the  real  Dandie. 
Lockhart,  however,  gives  the  honour  to  neither,  and 
believes  that  Scott  built  up  the  description  of  this  kind 
and  manly  character  and  of  his  gentle  wife,  Ailie,  from 
his  observation  of  the  early  home  of  William  Laidlaw, 
who  later  became  the  novelist's  amanuensis  and  one  of 
his  most  affectionate  friends. 

At  'Mump's  Ha',  Bertram  first  met  the  old  witch, 

137 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

Meg  Merrilies,  who  played  so  important  a  part  in  his 
destiny.  Scott,  as  a  boy  attending  school  at  Kelso,  had 
made  several  visits  to  Kirk  Yetholm,  a  village  near  the 
English  Border,  then  known  as  the  capital  of  the  gip- 
sies. A  certain  gipsy  soldier,  having  rendered  a  service 
to  the  Laird  of  Kirk  Yetholm  in  1695,  was  allowed  to 
settle  on  his  estate,  which  thereafter  was  the  headquar- 
ters of  the  tribe.  Scott  remembered  being  accosted  on 
one  of  his  visits  by  a  'woman  of  more  than  female 
height,  dressed  in  a  long  red  cloak,'  who  gave  him  an 
apple.  This  woman  was  Madge  Gordon,  who  was  the 
Queen  of  the  Yetholm  tribes.  She  was  a  granddaughter 
of  Jean  Gordon,  whom  she  greatly  resembled  in  appear- 
ance. An  interesting  story  of  the  latter,  who  was  the 
real  Meg  Merrilies,  is  told  in  the  Introduction  to  '  Guy 
Mannering.' 

The  royal  name  of  the  gipsies  was  Faa,  supposed  to 
be  a  corruption  of  Pharaoh  from  whom  they  claimed 
descent.  Gabriel  Faa,  the  nephew  of  Meg  Merrilies, 
was  a  character  whom  Scott  met  when  on  an  excursion 
with  James  Skene.  *He  was  one  of  those  vermin-de- 
stroyers,' says  Skene,  'who  gain  a  subsistence  among  the 
farmers  in  Scotland  by  relieving  them  of  foxes,  polecats, 
rats,  and  such-like  depredators.  The  individual  in  ques- 
tion was  a  half-witted,  stuttering,  and  most  original- 
looking  creature,  ingeniously  clothed  in  a  sort  of  tattered 
attire,  to  no  part  of  which  could  any  of  the  usual  appella- 
tions of  man's  garb  be  appropriately  given.  We  came 
suddenly  upon  this  crazy  sportsman  in  one  of  the  wild 
glens  of  Roxburghshire,  shouting  and  bellowing  on  the 
track  of  a  fox,  which  his  not  less  ragged  pack  of  mongrels 
were  tracking  aroimd  the  rocky  face  of  a  hill.  He  was 

138 


GUY  MANNERING 

like  a  scarecrow  run  off,  with  some  half-dozen  grey- 
plaided  shepherds  in  pursuit  of  him,  with  a  reserve  of 
shaggy  curs  yelping  at  their  heels.' 

Scott  was  able  to  write  the  vivid  description  of  the 
salmon-spearing  incident,  in  which  Gabriel  lets  the 
torch  drop  into  the  water  just  as  one  of  the  fishermen  had 
speared  a  thirty-pound  fish,  because  the  sport  was  one 
of  his  own  favourite  amusements.  One  night  in  January, 
he,  with  James  Skene,  Hogg  the  Ettrick  Shepherd,  and 
one  or  two  others,  were  out  on  the  Tweed  by  the  side  of 
Elibank.  They  had  a  fine,  blazing  light  and  the  salmon 
were  plentiful.  The  boat,  however,  was  a  crazy  old 
craft,  and  just  as  they  reached  the  deepest  pool  in  the 
river  she  began  to  sink.  His  companions  begged  him  to 
push  for  the  shore,  but  Scott,  in  great  glee,  replied,  'Oh, 
she  goes  fine,'  and  began  some  verses  of  an  old  song:  — 

An  gin  the  boat  war  bottomless, 
An  seven  miles  to  row,  — 

when  the  boat  suddenly  went  to  the  bottom.  Nothing 
worse  than  a  good  drenching  happened  to  any  of  the 
party  and  Scott  enjoyed  the  experience  heartily. 

While  attending  lectures  in  the  University  of  Edin- 
burgh, it  happened  frequently  that  Scott  sat  by  the  side 
of  a  modest  but  diUgent  student,  whose  extreme  poverty 
was  quite  obvious.  This  did  not  deter  him  from  making 
a  companion  of  the  boy,  and  they  often  walked  together 
in  the  coimtry.  Toward  the  end  of  the  session,  he  was 
strolling  alone  one  day  when  he  saw  his  friend  talking, 
in  a  confidential  manner,  with  an  old  beggar  to  whom  he 
had  often  given  small  sums  of  money.  Observing  some 
confusion  on  the  part  of  the  young  man,  he  made  some 
inquiries,  and  learned  that  the  beggar  was  his  friend's 

139 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

father.  It  was  characteristic  of  Scott's  generous  heart 
that  he  did  not  allow  this  fact  to  break  the  acquaintance, 
but  with  great  sympathy  he  kept  the  secret.  Some  time 
later  he  called  by  special  request  of  the  old  man  at  the 
latter's  humble  cottage,  where  he  foimd  his  fellow  stu- 
dent, pale  and  emaciated  from  a  recent  illness.  He 
learned  that  the  old  man  had  saved  enough  for  his  own 
maintenance,  but  had  voluntarily  subjected  himself  to 
the  humiliation  of  professional  mendicancy  for  no  other 
purpose  than  to  pay  for  his  son's  college  expenses.  In 
the  course  of  the  conversation  the  poor  father  often  ex- 
pressed the  hope  that  his  bairn  'might  wag  his  pow  in  a 
pulpit  yet.'  These  are  the  words  attributed  to  the  par- 
ents of  Dominie  Sampson,  of  whom  the  poor  lad  was 
the  earliest  suggestion.  When  the  family  came  to  live 
at  Abbotsford,  a  tutor  for  Walter,  the  eldest  son,  was 
required.  Scott,  always  eager  to  help  the  imfortunate, 
employed  George  Thomson, '  a  gallant  son  of  the  church,' 
who  by  accident  had  lost  a  leg.  He  was  *  tall,  vigorous, 
athletic,  a  dauntless  horseman,  and  expert  at  the  single- 
stick.' Scott  often  said  of  him,  'In  the  Dominie,  like 
myself,  accident  has  spoiled  a  capital  lifeguardsman.' 
He  was  a  man  of  many  eccentricities  and  peculiarities  of 
disposition,  among  them  a  remarkable  absent-minded- 
ness, but  kind-hearted,  faithful,  upright,  and  an  excel- 
lent scholar.  In  these  respects  he  was  the  prototype  of 
Dominie  Sampson,  though  the  story  of  the  latter's 
devotion  to  Lucy  Bertram  in  the  days  of  her  adversity  is 
based  upon  an  incident  in  the  life  of  another  person. 

Counsellor  Pleydell,  whom  Dominie  Sampson  regarded 
as  *a  very  erudite  and  fa-ce-ti-ous  person,'  was  generally 
identified,  by  those  who  knew  Edinburgh  a  century 

140 


GUY  MANNERING 

ago,  with  Mr.  Andrew  Crosbie/  a  flourishing  member 
of  the  Scottish  Bar  of  that  period.  Eminent  lawyers 
were  then  in  the  habit  of  meeting  their  clients  in  taverns, 
where  important  business  was  transacted  to  the  accom- 
paniment of  drinking  and  revelry.  This  typical  old 
Scottish  gentleman  of  real  life  lived  in  Lady  Stair's  Close 
and  later  in  Advocate's  Close,  both  resembling  the 
quarters  assigned  to  Counsellor  Pleydell.  In  those  days, 
the  extremely  high  buildings,  crowded  closely  together 
in  that  part  of  the  Old  Town  nearest  to  the  Parliament 
House,  were  occupied  by  the  elite  of  Edinburgh  society. 
They  were  ten  and  twelve  stories  high  and  reached  by 
narrow  winding  stairs.  Access  from  High  Street  was 
gained  by  means  of  narrow  and  often  steep  alleyways  or 
closes.  As  a  rule  the  more  aristocratic  and  exclusive 
families  lived  on  the  top  floors,  and  as  there  were  no 
elevators,  it  might  be  said,  the  higher  a  man's  social 
position,  the  more  he  had  to  work  for  his  living. 

Like  his  brethren  in  the  profession,  Mr.  Crosbie  had 
his  favourite  tavern,  where  he  could  always  be  found  by 
any  of  the  'cadies'  ^  in  the  street.  This  was  Dawny 
Douglas's  tavern  in  Anchor  Close,  the  meeting-place  of 
the  'Crochallan  Fencibles,'  a  convivial  club  of  which 
William  Smellie,  a  well-known  printer  and  editor  of  the 

^  As  Crosbie  died  when  Scott  was  only  fourteen,  the  novelist  could 
scarcely  have  known  him  personally;  on  the  other  hand,  he  could  hardly 
have  failed  to  hear  the  stories  of  such  an  individual,  whose  exploits  were 
well  known  to  the  frequenters  of  Parliament  Square. 

*  These  cadies  (or  caddies,  a  name  that  has  become  familiar  through 
the  introduction  of  the  Scotch  game  of  golf)  were  a  class  of  men  and  boys 
who  in  the  eighteenth  century  frequented  the  law  courts  of  Edinburgh, 
eager  to  be  employed  upon  any  errand.  They  knew  the  particular 
haunts  of  all  the  lawyers  of  any  consequence,  and  never  dreamed  of  look- 
ing for  anybody  at  his  own  home,  or  in  any  place  other  than  the  special 
tavern  which  he  was  known  to  frequent. 

141 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

day,  was  the  inspiring  genius,  and  where  Robert  Bums, 
when  in  Edinburgh,  joined  heartily  in  the  bacchana- 
lian revels  which  were  famous  for  their  duration  and 
intensity.  SmeUie's  printing-office  in  this  close  was 
frequented  by  some  of  the  most  eminent  literary  men 
of  the  day. 

The  game  of  'High  Jinks'  was  played  on  Saturday 
nights  in  Douglas's  tavern  very  much  as  described  in 
the  novel.  Clerihugh's,  which  Scott  mentions  as  Mr. 
Pleydell's  resort,  was  a  somewhat  more  respectable 
place  in  Writers'  Court. 

It  is  a  curious  fact  that  Mr.  Crosbie  had  a  clerk  very 
much  like  Pleydell's  'Driver,'  who  could  write  from  dic- 
tation just  as  well,  asleep  or  awake,  drunk  or  sober,  and 
whose  principal  reconmiendation  was  that  he  could 
always  be  found  at  the  same  tavern,  while  less  'steady' 
fellows  often  had  half  a  dozen.  The  incident  which  Mr. 
Pleydell  relates  to  Colonel  Mannering,  of  how  certain 
legal  papers  were  prepared  while  both  lawyer  and  clerk 
were  intoxicated,  was,  we  are  assured  by  the  author,  no 
uncommon  occurrence.  It  will  be  remembered  that  Mr. 
Pleydell  had  been  dining  on  Saturday  night  and  at  a 
late  hour,  when  he  'had  a  fair  tappit  hen  ^  under  his 
belt,'  was  asked  to  draw  up  some  papers.  Driver  was 
sent  for  and  brought  in  both  speechless  and  motionless. 
He  was  unable  to  see  the  inkstand,  and  it  was  necessary 
for  some  one  to  dip  the  pen  in  the  ink.  Nevertheless  he 
was  able  to  write  as  handsomely  as  ever  and  the  net 
result  of  this  attempt  to  'worship  Bacchus  and  Themis' 

*  The  *  Tappit  Hen '  was  a  pewter  mug,  with  the  figure  of  a  hen  on  the 
lid.  It  held  three  quarts  of  claret,  which  was  drawn  from  the  tj^,  — 
hence  the  name. 

142 


GUY  MANNERING 

at  the  same  time,  was  a  document  in  which  'not  three 
words  required  to  be  altered.' 

Crosbie's  clerk,  though  a  dissipated  wretch,  was  well 
versed  in  the  law.  He  had  been  known  to  destroy  a 
paper  in  his  employer's  writing  and  draw  up  a  better  one 
himself.  An  old  Scotchman  used  to  say  that  'he  would 

not  give 's  drunken  glour  at  a  paper  for  the  serious 

opinions  of  the  haill  bench.' 

Unfortunately,  both  Crosbie  and  his  clerk  gave  up  the 
*  steady '  habit  of  drinking  at  a  single  tavern  and  in  later 
life  began  to  frequent  many  places.  The  result  was  the 
complete  ruin  of  both.  Scott's  highly  amusing  account 
of  the  convivial  habits  of  Counsellor  Pleydell  and  his 
dissipated  clerk  is  a  fairly  accurate,  if  not  entirely  com- 
plimentary picture  of  the  daily  life  of  a  certain  class  of 
prominent  lawyers  in  Edinburgh,  in  the  middle  of  the 
eighteenth  century.  The  more  pleasing  side  of  Pleydell's 
character  was  taken  from  Adam  Rolland,  an  old  friend 
of  Scott's,  who  died  at  the  age  of  eighty-five,  four  years 
after  'Guy  Mannering'  was  published.  He  was  an  ac- 
complished gentleman,  an  excellent  scholar,  an  eminent 
lawyer,  and  a  man  of  the  highest  probity  and  Christian 
character.  He  would  have  been  quite  incapable  of  such 
a  performance  as  'high  jinks.' 

As  in  many  of  his  other  novels,  Scott  makes  the  sub- 
ordinate characters  of  '  Guy  Mannering'  the  most  inter- 
esting. Dominie  Sampson,  Dandie  Dinmont,  Meg 
Merrilies,  Dirk  Hatteraick,  and  Paulus  Pleydell  are 
original  creations  of  strong,  dramatic  interest.  Each  had 
a  prototype  in  real  life,  but  it  was  the  genius  of  the 
novelist  that  brought  them  into  existence  in  the  sense 
that  Mr.  Pickwick  and  Becky  Sharp  are  real  people,  and 

143 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

conferred  upon  them  a  kind  of  immortality  that  wUl  be 
as  sure  to  delight  the  generations  of  the  future  as  they 
have  been  successful  in  appealing  to  the  readers  of  the 
past  century. 

As  to  Colonel  Mannering  himself,  I  need  only  repeat 
the  exclamation  of  James  Hogg  when  he  first  read  the 
novel:  —  *  Colonel  Mannering  is  just  Walter  Scott 
painted  by  himself!'  Though  doubtless  not  intended 
for  a  portrait,  the  fine,  dignified,  soldierly,  and  scholarly 
colonel  is  the  picture  of  a  perfect  gentleman,  intended 
to  embody  the  high  ideals  which  were  a  part  of  Scott's 
own  character  and  for  which  we  like  to  remember  him. 


CHAPTER   X 

THE    ANTIQUARY 

Washington  Irving's  story  of  a  week  spent  with  Scott 
at  Abbotsford  always  leaves  in  my  mind  an  indescrib- 
able thrill  of  pleasure.  Partly  because  Irving  really  did 
have  a  delightful  experience  such  as  falls  to  the  lot  of 
few  men  and  partly  because  he  knew,  better  than  others, 
how  to  transfer  his  own  pleasurable  emotions  to  the 
minds  of  other  people,  it  is  certain  that,  to  my  mind  at 
least,  there  is  no  single  sketch  in  all  the  Scott  Uterature, 
not  even  in  Lockhart's  brilliant  work,  that  throws  a 
stronger  light  upon  the  Great  Wizard's  character  or 
illuminates  a  more  attractive  picture. 

It  was  a  happy  week  for  the  American  visitor,  and  I 
imagine  it  contained  no  happier  moment  than  when  the 
younger  author  nestled  by  the  side  of  his  warm-hearted 
friend,  under  the  lee  of  a  sheltering  bank  during  a 
shower,  the  plaid  of  the  Scotchman  closely  wrapped 
around  them  both,  while  the  enchanting  flow  of  anec- 
dote, reminiscence,  and  whimsical  suggestion  went 
merrily  on  in  spite  of  the  Scottish  mist.  It  was  in  the 
course  of  their  walk  on  this  particular  morning  that 
Scott  stopped  at  the  cottage  of  a  labourer  on  his  estate 
to  examine  some  tongs  that  had  been  dug  up  in  the 
Roman  camp  near  by.  *  As  he  stood  regarding  the  relic,' 
says  Irving,  'turning  it  round  and  round,  and  making 
comments  on  it,  half  grave,  half  comic,  with  the  cottage 
group  around  him,  all  joining  occasionally  in  the  collo- 

I4S 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

quy,  the  inimitable  character  of  Monkbarns  was  again 
brought  to  mind  and  I  seemed  to  see  before  me  that 
prince  of  antiquarians  and  himiourists,  holding  forth  to 
his  imlearned  and  unbelieving  neighbours.'  There  was 
something  peculiarly  delightful  about  Scott's  antiquari- 
anism.  He  seemed  to  feel  that  those  who  were  without 
his  own  knowledge  of  values  were  inclined  to  smile  at 
his  enthusiasm,  and  whenever  he  talked  on  his  favourite 
subject  there  was  an  undercurrent  of  sly  humour  which 
gave  an  exquisite  flavour  to  his  conversation.  The  dis- 
covery of  anything  ancient,  whether  a  ruined  castle,  a 
broadsword  or  sporran  from  the  Highlands,  or  a  scrap 
of  some  old  ballad,  gave  him  the  greatest  pleasure,  and 
nothing  afforded  his  friends  more  enjoyment  than  to  be 
able  to  present  him  with  such  relics  and  curiosities  as 
they  knew  he  would  appreciate.  A  casual  walk  through 
the  Entrance  Hall  and  Armory  of  Abbotsford,  where 
himdreds  of  helmets,  suits  of  armour,  swords,  guns,  pis- 
tols, and  curiosities  of  infinite  variety  are  displayed,  is 
enough  to  suggest  to  any  one  that  Sir  Walter  himself 
was  the  real  Jonathan  Oldbuck  of  'The  Antiquary.'  A 
glance  at  the  Library,  with  its  collection  of  twenty  thou- 
sand rare  old  volumes,  is  enough  to  prove  that  Scott, 
like  Monkbarns,  was  not  only  an  antiquary  but  a  biblio- 
phile as  well.  Who  but  a  genuine  enthusiast  could  have 
written  that  chapter  in  which  the  worthy  Mr.  Oldbuck 
exhibits  the  treasures  of  his  sanctum  sanctorum  to  Mr. 
Lovel?  'These  little  Elzevirs  are  the  memoranda  and 
trophies  of  many  a  walk  by  night  and  morning  through 
the  Cowgate,  the  Canongate,  the  Bow,  St.  Mary's 
Wynd,  —  wherever,  in  fine,  there  were  to  be  found 
brokers  and  trokers,  those  miscellaneous  dealers  in  things 

146 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

rare  and  curious.  How  often  have  I  stood  haggling  on 
a  half  penny,  lest,  by  a  too  ready  acquiescence  in  the 
dealer's  first  price,  he  should  be  led  to  suspect  the  value  I 
set  upon  the  article !  —  how  have  I  trembled,  lest  some 
passing  stranger  should  chop  in  between  me  and  the 
prize,  and  regarded  each  poor  student  of  divinity  that 
stopped  to  turn  over  the  books  at  the  stall  as  a  rival 
amateur,  or  prowling  bookseller  in  disguise !  —  And, 
then,  Mr.  Lovel,  the  sly  satisfaction  with  which  one 
pays  the  consideration,  and  pockets  the  article,  affecting 
a  cold  indifference,  while  the  hand  is  trembling  with 
pleasure ! ' 

It  was  during  the  visit  to  Prestonpans,  previously  men- 
tioned, that  Scott,  a  child  of  six,  first  made  the  acquaint- 
ance of  George  Constable,  an  old  friend  of  his  father's, 
who  resided  near  Dundee.  He  must  have  learned  from 
this  gentleman  something  which  started  in  him  the 
antiquarian  instincts,  for,  as  he  himself  has  remarked, 
'children  derive  impulses  of  a  powerful  and  important 
kind  in  hearing  things  which  they  cannot  entirely  com- 
prehend.' Certainly  he  put  enough  of  Mr.  Constable  into 
the  description  of  Jonathan  Oldbuck  to  cause  various 
friends  to  recognize  him;  and  as  Constable's  intimacy 
with  Scott's  father  was  well  known,  this  gave  colour  to 
the  suspicion  that  Scott  himself  was  the  unknown  author 
of  'The  Antiquary.'  But  even  a  more  faithful  delinea- 
tion of  George  Constable  than  the  book  contains  would 
have  failed  to  bring  out  the  real  charm  of  the  delightful 
Oldbuck.  It  is  the  Scott  part  of  his  nature  that  we  really 
enjoy. 

Next  to  the  Antiquary  himself,  old  Edie  Ochiltree  is 
the  character  who  is  chiefly  responsible  for  the  pleasant 

147 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

flavour  of  this  book.  He  is  a  mendicant  whom  it  is  a  real 
pleasure  to  meet.  His  amiable  nature,  his  sly  good 
himiour,  and  his  genuine  friendliness  win  your  alBFection 
in  the  beginning  and  hold  it  to  the  very  end.  He  is  a 
picture  drawn  from  real  life,  though  it  is  probable  that 
old  Andrew  Gemmels,  his  prototyp>e,  did  not  possess  the 
many  endearing  qualities  with  which  the  novelist  in- 
vested Edie. 

The  'blue  gowns'  of  the  south  of  Scotland  were  a  class 
of  licensed  beggars,  known  as  the  'King's  Bedesmen.' 
The  number  of  them  was  supposed  to  be  the  same  as  the 
'  years  of  the  King's  life,  so  it  was  necessary  to  initiate  a 
new  member  of  the  aristocracy  of  paupers  every  year. 
At  every  royal  birthday  each  bedesman  received  a  new 
light-blue  cloak  or  gown  and  a  pewter  badge,  together 
■with  a  purse  containing  as  many  pennies  as  the  years  of 
the  King's  life.  Their  sole  duty  was  to  pray  for  long  life 
for  the  King,  which,  considering  that  the  older  the  sov- 
ereign the  larger  the  purse,  they  might  very  cheerfully 
do.  In  return,  all  laws  against  beggars  were  suspended 
in  their  favour,  and  the  'blue  gowns'  went  about  from 
house  to  house,  fairly  assured  of  food  and  lodging  and 
seemingly  free  from  care. 

The  service  of  the  'blue  gown'  to  the  community  is 
best  set  forth  in  the  words  of  Edie  Ochiltree,  who  appar- 
ently considered  himself  a  public  benefactor:  — 

And  then  what  wad  a'  the  country  about  do  for  want  o* 
auld  Edie  Ochiltree,  that  brings  news  and  country  cracks 
fraeae  farm-steading  to  anither  and  gingerbread  to  the  lasses, 
and  helps  the  lads  to  mend  their  fiddles  and  the  gudewives 
to  clout  their  pans,  and  plaits  rush-swords  and  grenadier 
caps  for  the  weans  and  busks  the  lairds'  flees,  and  has  skill  o' 

148 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

cow-ills  and  horse-ills,  and  kens  mair  auld  sangs  and  tales 
than  a'  the  barony  besides,  and  gars  ilka  body  laugh  where- 
ever  he  comes?  Troth,  my  leddy,  1  canna  lay  down  my  voca- 
tion; it  would  be  a  public  loss. 

Andrew  Gemmels  was  well  known  throughout  the 
Border  country  of  Scotland  for  more  than  half  a  century 
as  a  professional  beggar  or  'gaberlunzie.'  He  had  been  a 
soldier  in  his  youth  and  maintained  his  erect  military 
carriage  even  in  old  age.  He  was  very  tall  and  carried  a 
walking-stick  almost  as  high  as  himself.  His  features 
were  strongly  intellectual,  but  marked  by  a  certain 
fierceness  and  austerity  of  expression,  the  result  of  his 
long  and  peculiar  contact  with  all  sorts  of  hard  experi- 
ences. Scott,  who  had  often  met  him,  comments  upon 
his  remarkable  gracefulness.  With  his  striking  attitudes 
he  would  have  made  a  fine  model  for  an  artist.  One  of 
his  chief  assets  was  an  unusual  power  of  sarcasm,  coupled 
with  a  keen  wit,  the  fear  of  which  often  gained  for  him 
favours  which  might  otherwise  have  been  denied.  He 
was  full  of  reminiscences  of  the  wars  and  of  adventures 
in  foreign  lands,  which  he  told  in  a  droll  fashion,  coupled 
with  a  shrewd  wit,  that  always  made  him  an  entertain- 
ing visitor.  He  wandered  about  the  country  at  pleasure, 
demanding  entertainment  as  a  right,  which  was  accorded 
usually  without  question.  His  preference  as  to  sleeping 
quarters  was  the  stable  or  some  outbuilding  where  cattle 
were  kept.  He  never  burdened  anybody,  usually  appear- 
ing at  the  same  place  only  once  or  twice  a  year.  He 
always  had  money  —  frequently  more  than  those  of 
whom  he  begged.  When  a  certain  parsimonious  gentle- 
man expressed  regret  that  he  had  no  silver  in  his  pocket 
or  he  would  have  given  him  sixpence,  Andrew  promptly 

149 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

replied, '  I  can  give  you  change  for  a  note,  laird.'  In  later 
years  he  travelled  about  on  his  own  horse,  a  very  good 
one,  and  carried  a  gold  watch.  He  died  at  the  age  of  a 
hundred  and  six  years,  leaving  enough  wealth  to  enrich 
a  nephew,  who  became  a  considerable  landholder.  His 
tombstone  in  Roxburgh  Churchyard,  near  Kelso,  con- 
tains a  quaint  carved  figure  of  the  mendicant,  above 
which  are  the  words,  'Behold  the  end  o'  it.'  This  refers 
to  an  incident  related  by  a  writer  in  the  'Edinburgh 
Magazine'  in  1817,  the  year  after  the  publication  of  the 
novel:  — 

Many  curious  anecdotes  of  Andrew's  sarcastic  wit  and 
eccentric  manners  are  current  in  the  Borders.  I  shall  for  the 
present  content  myself  with  one  specimen,  illustrative  of 
Andrew's  resemblance  to  his  celebrated  representative.  The 
following  is  given  as  commonly  related  with  much  good 
humour  by  the  late  Mr.  Dodds,  of  the  War-Office,  the  p)erson 
to  whom  it  chiefly  refers:  Andrew  happened  to  be  present 
at  a  fair  or  market  somewhere  in  Teviotdale  (St.  Boswell's  if 
I  mistake  not)  where  Dodds,  at  that  time  a  non-commissioned 
officer  in  His  Majesty's  service,  happened  also  to  be  with  a 
miUtary  party  recruiting.  It  was  some  time  during  the  Amer- 
ican War,  when  they  were  eagerly  beating  up  for  fresh  men 
—  to  teach  passive  obedience  to  the  obdurate  and  ill-man- 
nered Coliunbians;  and  it  was  then  the  practice  for  recruiting 
sergeants,  after  parading  for  a  due  space  with  all  the  warlike 
pageantry  of  drums,  trumpets,  'glancing  blades,  and  gay 
cockades,'  to  declaim  in  heroic  strains  the  delights  of  the  sol- 
dier's life,  of  glory,  patriotism,  plunder,  the  prospect  of  pro- 
motion for  the  bold  and  the  young,  and  His  Majesty's 
munificent  pension  for  the  old  and  the  wounded,  etc.,  etc. 
Dodds,  who  was  a  man  of  much  natural  talent,  and  whose 
abilities  afterwards  raised  him  to  an  honourable  rank  and 
independent  fortune,  had  made  one  of  his  most  brilliant 
speeches  on  this  occasion.  A  crowd  of  ardent  and  anxious 

ISO 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

rustics  were  standing  round,  gaping  with  admiration  at  the 
imposing  mien,  and  kindling  at  the  heroic  eloquence,  of  the 
manly  soldier,  whom  many  of  them  had  known  a  few  years 
before  as  a  rude  tailor  boy;  and  the  sergeant  himself,  already 
leading  in  idea  a  score  of  new  recruits,  had  just  concluded, 
in  a  strain  of  more  than  usual  elevation,  his  oration  in  praise 
of  the  military  profession,  when  Gemmels,  who,  in  tattered 
guise,  was  standing  close  behind  him,  reared  aloft  his  meal- 
pocks  on  the  end  of  his  kentor  pike-staff,  and  exclaimed,  with 
a  tone  and  aspect  of  the  most  profound  derision, '  Behold  the 
end  o'  it!'  The  contrast  was  irresistible  —  the  beau-ideal  of 
Sergeant  Dodds,  and  the  ragged  reality  of  Andrew  Gem- 
mels, were  sufficiently  striking;  and  the  former,  with  his  red- 
coat followers,  beat  a  retreat  in  some  confusion,  amidst 
the  loud  and  universal  laughter  of  the  surrounding  multi- 
tude. 

The  character  of  the  old  'gaberlunzie,'  as  revealed  in 
this  anecdote,  was  so  faithfully  transferred  by  the  novel- 
ist to  Edie  Ochiltree,  that  in  spite  of  some  embellish- 
ments he  was  immediately  recognized. 

To  study  the  scenery  of  'The  Antiquary,'  we  went  to 
Arbroath,  a  town  on  the  east  coast  of  Scotland,  which 
traces  its  beginnings  back  to  the  twelfth  century.  This 
is  the  original  of  Fairport,  and  we  found  all  of  the 
scenery  of  the  novel  in  the  immediate  neighbourhood. 
In  the  midst  of  a  shower  which  threatened  destruction 
to  all  photographic  attempts,  we  made  our  first  visit  to 
the  ruins  of  the  Abbey  of  St.  Thomas,  the  original  of 
St.  Ruth's.  It  was  a  disappointment  to  find  this  ruin  in 
the  heart  of  the  city,  instead  of  a  'wild,  sequestered 
spot,'  where  a  'pure  and  profound  lake'  discharged  itself 
into  a '  huddling  and  tumultuous  brook.'  But  the  Wizard 
always  reserved  the  right  to  transplant  his  ruined  castles 
and  abbeys  to  suit  his  taste,  and  he  was  quite  justified 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

in  transferring  St.  Ruth's  to  more  romantic  surroundings, 
particulariy  as  there  is  a  deep  ravine  known  as  Seaton 
Den,  on  the  coast  north  of  Arbroath,  which  answers 
every  requirement. 

Thanks  to  the  British  Government,  which  took 
charge  of  the  abbey  in  1815,  there  is  still  left  enough  of 
the  walls  to  make  a  picturesque  ruin  of  considerable 
extent.  For  two  centuries  previously  the  people  of  the 
village  freely  used  the  stones  for  building  purposes.  It  is 
necessary  to  go  back  six  centuries  to  find  the  church  in 
its  full  perfection,  when  it  was  one  of  the  richest  and 
most  sumptuously  furnished  establishments  in  Scotland. 
In  the  year  1320,  a  parliament  was  held  in  the  abbey  by 
King  Robert  the  Bruce,  and  a  letter,  regarded  as  one  of 
the  most  remarkable  documents  in  early  British  history, 
was  sent  to  the  Pope,  appealing  for  a  recognition  of 
Scottish  independence. 

The  original  abbey  was  founded  in  the  year  11 78  by 
William  the  Lion,  a  Scottish  monarch  whose  name  is  as- 
sociated with  nearly  all  of  the  principal  buildings  which 
form  the  scenes  of  'The  Antiquary.'  It  was  dedicated 
to  St.  Thomas  of  Canterbury,  the  famous  Thomas  k 
Becket,  whom  William  had  met  at  the  court  of  the  Eng- 
lish King,  Henry  II,  when  a  young  man.  From  ancient 
documents  it  would  seem  that  the  monastery  was  main- 
tained in  a  state  of  great  opulence  and  that  it  was  open 
to  all  comers,  rich  and  poor  alike. 

The  predominating  feature  of  the  ruin,  as  it  stands 
to-day,  is  the  south  wall,  containing  what  the  people  of 
Arbroath  call  the  'Roond  O,'  a  window  twelve  feet  in 
diameter,  immediately  over  the  altar  of  St.  Catharine. 
Beneath  this  opening  is  a  gallery  with  seven  arches  of 

152 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

carved  stone,  suggesting  the  scene  in  'The  Antiquary' 
where  the  impostor,  Dousterswivel,  and  Sir  Arthur 
Wardour  are  digging  for  treasure  in  the  ruins,  while 
Lovel  and  Edie  Ochiltree  watch  the  performance  from 
just  such  a  place  of  concealment.  We  could  almost  smell 
the  fumes  of  the  '  suffumigation '  and  hear  the  violent 
sneezes  of  old  Edie  and  the  terrified  ejaculation  of 
Dousterswivel,  *Alle  guten  Geistern,  loben  den  Herrn!' 

Monkbams,  the  home  of  Jonathan  Oldbuck,  is  closely 
associated  with  the  history  of  the  abbey.  When  the  fame 
of  that  establishment  had  spread  throughout  Scotland 
and  England,  there  were  many  pilgrimages  to  the  shrine 
of  St.  Thomas  a  Becket.  Many  of  these  pilgrims  arrived 
sick  and  exhausted.  To  provide  for  them,  a  rude  hos- 
pital was  ordered  built,  about  two  miles  away  from  the 
abbey,  on  lands  now  occupied  by  a  handsome  building 
known  as  Hospitalfield.  In  Scott's  day  this  house  was 
very  much  less  pretentious  and  might  well  have  corre- 
sponded with  his  description  of  an  'irregular  and  old- 
fashioned  building,  some  part  of  which  had  belonged  to  a 
grange,  or  solitary  farmhouse,  inhabited  by  the  bailiff, 
or  steward  of  the  monastery,  when  the  place  was  in  pos- 
session of  the  monks.  It  was  here  that  the  community 
stored  up  the  grain  which  they  received  as  ground-rent 
from  their  vassals;  .  .  .  and  hence,  as  the  present  pro- 
prietor loved  to  tell,  came  the  name  of  Monkbams.' 
Readers  of  'The  Antiquary'  will  remember  the  alterca- 
tion between  Oldbuck  and  his  sister  when  the  latter  was 
requested  to  make  a  bed  ready  for  Mr.  Lovel.  ' "  A  bed? 
The  Lord  preserve  us!"  ejaculated  Grizel.  "Why, 
what 's  the  matter  now?  Are  there  not  beds  and  rooms 
enough  in  the  house?  Was  it  not  an  ancient  hospUium 

153 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

in  which,  I  am  warranted  to  say,  beds  were  nightly 
made  down  for  a  score  of  pilgrims?'" 

The  property  has  a  beautiful  situation  and  is  other- 
wise so  desirable  that  it  passed  from  the  monks  into 
private  hands  centuries  ago.  It  finally  came  into  the 
possession  of  Patrick  Allan-Fraser,  who  made  such  ex- 
tensive additions  that  whatever  is  left  of  the  original 
building  owned  by  the  monks  is  completely  covered 
up.  This  public-spirited  gentleman,  who  died  in  1890, 
left  the  estate  in  trust  for  the  benefit  and  encouragement 
of  young  men  who  desired  to  study  painting,  sculpture, 
wood-carving,  architecture,  or  engraving,  and  the  house 
is  now  occupied  by  teachers  and  students.  It  has  an  art 
gallery  containing  some  valuable  paintings,  sculptures, 
and  wood-carvings,  and  a  library  of  old  documents  and 
rare  folios  that  would  delight  the  soul  of  Jonathan 
Oldbuck  himself. 

It  was  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world  for  us,  after 
visiting  Monkbams,  to  seek  the  residence  of  his  Tory 
friend  and  fellow  antiquarian.  Sir  Arthur  Wardour,  al- 
though we  did  not  find  it  within  easy  walking  distance  as 
might  have  been  inferred.  Ethie  Castle  has  been  gener- 
ally fixed  upon  by  local  writers  as  the  original  of  Knock- 
winnock.  The  present  building  is  one  of  the  country- 
seats  of  the  Earl  of  Northesk.  It  is  a  red-stone  structure 
of  considerable  antiquity  and  irregular  design,  which 
nevertheless  made  a  pleasing  picture  when  seen  at  a  dis- 
tance of  several  hundred  yards  from  the  front.  A  tiny 
brook  crossed  by  a  wooden  bridge  and  flanked  by  huge 
rhododendrons  in  full  bloom  made  a  charming  fore- 
ground. Beyond  was  a  sloping  field  of  tall  grass,  which 
had  been  mown  only  enough  to  make  a  broad  path  in 

154 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

the  midst  of  which  were  countless  thousands  of  dainty 
pink-and-white  daisies.  On  either  side  were  ample  groves 
of  well-foliaged  trees,  making  a  vista  in  which  the  old  red 
mansion  appeared  to  excellent  advantage. 

Ethie  Castle  was  part  of  the  endowment  which  Wil- 
liam the  Lion  granted  to  the  Abbey  of  Aberbrothock.  It 
therefore  dates  back  to  the  year  1178.  In  the  sixteenth 
century  it  was  the  residence  of  Cardinal  Beaton,  who 
seems  to  have  bequeathed  to  it  the  *  Cardinal's  Chapel,' 
by  which  name  a  room  in  the  house  is  still  known  and 
'the  tramp  of  the  Cardinal's  leg,'  a  weird,  ghostly  sound 
of  footsteps  on  the  old  stone  stairs,  with  which  the  castle 
is  haunted.  After  the  death  of  the  Cardinal,  a  natural 
daughter  laid  claim  to  the  estate.  Thus,  as  with  Knock- 
winnock,  the  'bar-sinister'  appears  on  the  escutcheon  of 
the  family. 

Directly  east  of  Ethie  Castle  and  not  far  distant  are 
the  cliffs  of  Red  Head.  The  coast  for  some  miles  north 
of  Arbroath  is  a  series  of  huge  cliffs,  with  many  strange 
caverns  and  curious  rock  formations.  Almost  any  of 
them,  but  Red  Head  perhaps  better  than  the  others, 
would  serve  as  the  scene  of  the  thrilling  incident  in  'The 
Antiquary,'  in  which  Sir  Arthur  Wardour  and  his  daugh- 
ter are  overtaken  by  the  tide  and  rescued  with  great 
difficulty  by  Saunders  Mucklebackit,  ably  assisted  by 
Lovel  and  Edie  Ochiltree.  Two  huge  rocks  rise  almost 
perpendicularly  from  the  shore.  It  is  easily  conceivable 
that  any  attempt  to  walk  around  them,  in  the  face  of  a 
swiftly  rising  tide,  would  be  fraught  with  dangerous,  if 
not  fatal,  consequences. 

The  village  of  Auchmithie,  the  home  of  the  Muckle- 
backits,  is  situated  on  one  of  the  cliffs  south  of  Red 

^5S 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

Head.  This  is  the  most  realistic  of  all  the  scenes  of  'The 
Antiquary.'  The  village,  with  the  exception  of  a  new 
hotel,  is  practically  as  it  was  when  Scott  was  a  visitor  in 
1814.  There  is  but  one  street,  and  that  has  no  name;  but 
the  houses  are  numbered,  city-fashion.  The  post-office 
address  of  an  inhabitant  would,  therefore,  give  the  num- 
ber of  the  house  and  the  name  of  the  town,  omitting  any 
mention  of  a  street;  thus  the  old  fisherman,  who  posed 
for  me  and  to  whom  I  mailed  a  photograph,  lives  at 
Number  58,  Auchmithie,  Scotland.  This  old  fellow  is  a 
type  of  the  neighbours  of  Saunders  Mucklebackit.  The 
habits  of  life  of  the  people,  their  dress,  their  occupations, 
their  houses,  their  furniture,  even  their  names,  are  the 
same  as  they  were  a  hundred  years  ago.  I  asked  the  old 
man  how  old  his  house  was.  He  replied,  *0u,  I  dinna 
ken  hoo  auld.  I'se  seventy-two  mysel'  and  I  was  born 
here  and  my  grandfeyther,  too.'  Several  others  of  whom 
I  asked  the  same  question  gave  substantially  the  same 
answer. 

The  post-office  was  in  one  of  these  ancient  cottages, 
with  a  new  front,  but  otherwise  unchanged.  Its  occupant 
was  quite  communicative.  He  said  it  was  the  original 
Cargill  Cottage,  and  that  George  Cargill,  who  occu- 
pied it  a  century  ago,  was  the  original  Mucklebackit. 
'When  Walter  Scott  came  to  Auchmithie,'  said  he,  *he 
came  by  boat.  There  was  n't  any  way  to  land  except 
through  the  breakers  and  he  could  n't  do  that  without 
getting  his  feet  wet.  So  Cargill  had  to  carry  him  ashore 
on  his  back.  When  he  set  him  down  on  dry  land,  Scott 
clapped  him  on  the  back  and  said,  '"What  a  muckle 
backed  fellow  you  are,  Geordie,  to  be  sure!"  Muckle, 
you  see,  sir,  means  "  much"  or  "  big," and  George  had  a 

iS6 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

great  big  broad  back,  so  that's  how  Walter  Scott  got  the 
name,  Mucklebackit.'  He  let  me  take  a  photograph 
of  the  interior  of  the  cottage,  where  a  single  room  served 
for  bedroom,  breakfast-room,  kitchen,  and  numerous 
other  purposes,  I  suppose  the  cottage  of  Saunders 
Mucklebackit  must  have  presented  much  the  same 
appearance  to  Monkbarns  when  he  walked  in  to  attend 
the  funeral  of  young  Steenie  Mucklebackit  and  won  the 
hearts  of  all  by  performing  the  office  of  chief  mourner, 
according  the  family  the  rare  honour  of  having  the  laird 
'carry  the  head  of  the  deceased  to  the  grave.' 

I  found  a  very  pleasant  family  group  in  front  of  the 
next  cottage,  and  after  a  few  moment's  conversation 
asked  permission  to  take  their  picture.  Not  hearing  a 
dissenting  voice,  I  understood  my  request  would  be 
granted  and  began  to  set  up  my  camera  in  the  street. 
Before  I  had  half  made  ready,  the  entire  group  had  dis- 
appeared. The  police  department  of  the  town  then 
marched  up  to  me,  —  one  man  strong,  —  and  for  a 
moment  I  felt  afraid  I  had  been  violating  some  law.  But 
he  was  only  curious,  and  told  me  that  the  people  had  a 
strange  aversion  to  being  photographed.  I  left  my  cam- 
era all  focused  and  ready  in  the  street  and  sauntered 
with  the  constable  to  the  side  of  the  road.  In  a  few 
minutes  a  picturesque  old  fishwife,  carrying  two  large 
empty  pails  in  each  hand,  came  out  of  her  house,  all 
unconscious  of  the  awful  presence  of  a  loaded  camera 
and  I  quickly  stepped  out  and  pressed  the  bulb .  '  That 's 
Coffee  Betz  you  got  then,'  laughed  the  constable.  'She 
would  n't  let  you  take  her  picture,  but  she 's  one  of  the 
Cargills.'  In  this  way  I  came  as  near  as  possible  to  get- 
ting a  photograph  of  the  original  Luckie  Mucklebackit 

IS7 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

with  whom  Monkbams  haggled  over  the  price  of  a 
bannock-fluke  and  a  cock-padle.  For  the  fishwives  of 
to-day  are  the  same  as  those  of  a  century  ago,  —  *  they 
keep  the  man,  and  keep  the  house,  and  keep  the  siller, 
too.'  The  men  consider  their  own  work  ended  when  the 
boat  is  pulled  up  on  the  beach.  It  is  the  wife  who  must 
market  the  fish,  which  she  does  by  carrying  them  on  her 
back  to  the  nearest  town,  where  she  must  'scauld  and 
ban  wi'  ilka  wife  that  will  scauld  and  ban  wi'  her'  until 
the  fish  are  sold.  'Them  that  sell  the  goods  guide  the 
purse  —  them  that  guide  the  purse  rule  the  house,'  and 
therefore  by  common  consent  in  these  communities,  the 
wife  is  the  head  of  the  family. 

Back  from  Auchmithie  is  the  mansion  house  of 
Kinblethmont,  surrounded  by  some  fine  old  woods.  It 
will  be  remembered  that  Edie  Ochiltree  was  passing 
this  place  on  his  return  from  the  Earl  of  Glenallan's 
castle  when  he  was  arrested  on  a  charge  of  assaulting 
Dousterswivel.  Colonel  Lindsay,  of  Kinblethmont,  and 
the  Laird  of  Hospitalfield  were  the  leaders  who  took 
the  direction  of  affairs  when  a  French  privateer  named 
the  'Dreadnought'  threatened  the  town  of  Arbroath 
in  very  much  the  same  way  as  Fairport  was  menaced 
in  'The  Antiquary.'  The  same  scenes  of  excitement 
so  vividly  described  in  the  novel  were  there  enacted. 

Scott,  however,  had  passed  through  a  similar  expe- 
rience himself,  which  enabled  him  to  write  the  dramatic 
event  with  greater  ease.  For  several  years,  in  the  early 
part  of  the  nineteenth  century,  the  people  of  England 
and  Scotland  were  kept  in  a  state  of  nervous  dread  by 
the  expectation  of  an  invasion  by  the  French.  Beacons 
were  erected  all  along  the  coast  ready  to  give  instant 

158 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

alarm,  and  militia  organizations  were  ever5rwhere  kept 
in  a  state  of  readiness.  A  false  alarm  on  February  2, 
1804,  brought  out  the  volunteers  of  Berwickshire,  Rox- 
burghshire, and  Selkirkshire  with  surprising  rapidity. 
Scott  had  gone  with  his  wife  for  a  visit  to  Gilsland,  the 
scene  of  their  courtship.  He  was  then  a  member  of  the 
Edinburgh  Volunteers.  When  the  alarm  came  he 
promptly  moimted  his  horse  and  rode  with  all  speed  to 
Dalkeith,  a  distance  of  one  hundred  miles,  within 
twenty-four  hours.  The  alarm  had  subsided  when  he 
reached  his  destination,  and  after  a  few  jolly  evenings 
with  his  fellow  volunteers  he  returned  to  the  south.  It 
was  on  this  hurried  trip  that  he  composed  a  poem, 
entitled,  'The  Bard's  Incantation.' 

'The  Antiquary'  thus  closes  as  it  began,  with  a  leaf 
out  of  the  author's  personal  experience.  I  have  no  doubt 
that  he  heartily  enjoyed  its  composition.  It  must  have 
been  an  exquisite  pleasure  to  one  so  appreciative  of  genu- 
ine humour  to  caricature  his  own  antiquarian  foibles; 
to  weave  into  the  pages  of  romance  the  many  tales  he 
had  heard  in  his  youth  of  a  character  so  interesting  as 
the  old  'gaberlunzie';  and  to  make  the  people  of  his 
fancy  walk  the  streets  of  the  ancient  seaport  town,  visit 
the  old  abbey,  saunter  along  the  chffs  of  the  seashore, 
or  roam  about  over  the  adjacent  country,  where  he  had 
spent  many  pleasant  hours  in  the  company  of  well- 
loved  friends. 

Although  Scott's  own  opinion  at  first  was  that  'The 
Antiquary'  lacked  the  romance  of  'Waverley'  and  the 
adventure  of  '  Guy  Mannering,'  yet  in  subsequent  years 
he  came  to  regard  it  as  his  favourite  among  all  the 
Waverley  Novels. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE  BLACK  DWARP 

Late  in  the  afternoon  of  a  beautiful  May  day,  while  on 
one  of  our  drives  from  Melrose,  we  turned  off  the  main 
road  a  few  miles  west  of  Peebles,  and,  crossing  the 
Tweed,  entered  the  vale  of  Manor  Water.  This  secluded 
valley,  peaceful  and  charming,  would  make  an  ideal 
retreat  for  any  one  who  wished  to  escape  the  noise  and 
confusion  of  a  busy  world.  The  distinguished  philoso- 
pher and  historian,  Dr.  Adam  Ferguson,  foimd  it  so, 
when  in  old  age  he  took  up  his  residence  at  Hallyards, 
where  his  young  friend,  Walter  Scott,  paid  him  a  visit  in 
the  memorable  summer  of  1797. 

It  was  not  a  desire  to  retire  from  worldly  activities, 
however,  or  to  visit  the  house  of  Dr.  Ferguson,  that  led 
us  into  the  quiet  vaUey.  Our  purpose  was  to  see  the 
former  home  of  one  of  the  strangest  human  beings  who 
ever  lived;  one  who  found  the  seclusion  of  the  beautiful 
vale  well  adapted  to  shield  him  from  the  unwelcome 
observation  of  the  curious-minded.  David  Ritchie,  or 
*Bow'd  Davie  o'  the  Wud'use,'^  as  he  was  called,  was 
for  many  years  a  familiar  figure  to  the  few  farmers  of 
the  valley.  He  was  bom  about  1735,  and  lived  to  be 
seventy-six  years  of  age.  He  had  been  horribly  deformed 
from  birth.  His  shoulders  were  broad  and  muscular,  and 
his  arms  unusually  long  and  powerful,  though  he  could 
not  lift  them  higher  than  his  breast.  But  Nature  seemed 
*  Or  Bowed  Davie  of  the  Woodhouse  Farm. 
160 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 

to  have  omitted  providing  him  with  legs  and  thighs. 
The  upper  part  of  his  body,  with  proportions  seemingly 
intended  for  a  giant,  was  set  upon  short  fin-like  legs,  so 
small  that  when  he  stood  erect  they  were  almost  invisible. 
His  height  was  scarcely  three  feet  and  a  half.  His  feet 
were  badly  adapted  for  walking  and  were  kept  wrapped 
in  masses  of  rags  as  though  they  were  the  particular 
feature  of  which  their  owner  was  most  ashamed.  So 
completely  did  he  depend  upon  the  strength  of  his  arms 
and  chest  that,  unable  to  use  his  feet  in  the  ordinary  way 
in  digging  his  garden,  he  contrived  a  peculiar  spade 
which  he  could  force  into  the  soil  with  his  breast.  With 
his  great  arms  he  had  been  known  to  tear  a  tree  up  by 
the  roots,  which  had  defied  the  strength  of  two  ordinary 
men. 

His  head  was  unusually  large,  particularly  behind  the 
ears.  He  had  a  long  nose,  a  wide,  ugly  mouth,  and  a  pro- 
truding chin  covered  with  a  grisly  black  beard.  He  had 
eyes  of  piercing  black  which  in  moments  of  excitement 
gleamed  with  wild  and  awe-inspiring  brightness.  His 
voice  was  shrill,  harsh,  and  discordant,  more  like  that  of 
a  screech-owl  than  a  human  being,  and  his  laugh  was 
said  to  be  horrible. 

His  mind  corresponded  in  deformity  with  his  body. 
He  was  eccentric,  irritable,  jealous,  and  strangely  super- 
stitious. He  was  sensitive  beyond  all  reason  and  could 
not  endure  even  the  glance  of  his  curious  fellow  men. 
He  read  insult  and  scorn  in  faces  where  neither  was 
intended.  He  thoroughly  despised  all  children  and  most 
strangers.  His  whole  nature  seemed  to  have  been 
poisoned  with  bitterness  of  spirit  because  he  was  not 
like  other  men.   Scott  was  introduced  to  this  singular 

i6i 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

individual  by  Dr.  Ferguson,  who  had  taken  a  great  in- 
terest in  him.  Nineteen  years  later,  and  five  years  after 
the  death  of  David  Ritchie,  he  made  the  recluse  of 
Manor  Valley  known  to  the  world  as  *  The  Black  Dwarf/ 
in  the  first  of  the  'Tales  of  My  Landlord.' 

We  found  the  cottage  a  little  off  the  road  and  not  far 
from  the  river,  nestling  under  the  brow  of  a  hill.  I 
should,  perhaps,  say  two  cottages,  joined  together  and 
nearly  of  the  same  size.  The  one  on  the  left  is  of  com- 
paratively recent  date  and  has  a  weather-stained  bust  of 
Sir  Walter  over  the  door.  The  older  cottage  is  divided 
by  a  partition.  On  the  right  is  a  door  and  window  of 
ordinary  size.  On  the  left  is  a  door  three  and  a  half  feet 
high  and  a  very  small  window.  There  is  no  means  of 
communication  between  the  two  apartments.  The  left 
side  was  occupied  by  David  Ritchie  and  the  right  by 
his  half-crazed  sister,  Agnes.  There  was  never  any 
affection  between  these  two  unfortunates,  but  on  the 
contrary,  and  in  spite  of  the  loneliness  of  their  lives, 
there  was  an  almost  complete  estrangement. 

The  cottage  has  a  stone  over  the  dwarf's  door  in- 
scribed *D.  R.  1802.'  This  commemorates  the  date 
when  it  was  built,  by  the  charity  of  Sir  James  Nasmyth, 
the  owner  of  the  land.  It  replaces  a  hut  built  by  David 
himself  in  very  much  the  same  manner  as  described  in 
the  novel.  With  his  own  hands  the  dwarf  rolled  the 
heavy  stones  down  from  the  hill,  and  with  what  seemed 
to  be  almost  superhuman  strength,  lifted  them  into  posi- 
tion. He  enlisted  the  aid  of  passers-by,  however,  to  help 
lift  the  weightiest  ones,  which  added  to  the  wonderment 
of  the  next  comers,  who  could  not  know  how  much  he 
had  been  assisted.   Scott  says  he  settled  on  the  land 

162 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 

without  asking  or  receiving  permission,  but  was  allowed 
to  remain  when  discovered  by  the  good-natured  laird. 
William  Chambers,  however,  who  gave  considerable 
study  to  the  subject,  says  that  the  owner  not  only  gave 
him  possession  of  the  ground  rent-free,  but  instructed 
his  servants  to  render  such  assistance  as  might  be 
required. 

The  immediate  occasion  of  building  a  house  in  this 
sequestered  neighbourhood  was  the  fact  that  Ritchie's 
painful  sensitiveness  about  his  ungainly  appearance 
made  it  intolerable  for  him  to  remain  in  Edinburgh, 
whither  he  had  gone  to  learn  the  trade  of  brush-making. 
Whatever  instinct  guided  him  to  Manor  Water,  he  could 
scarcely  have  found  anywhere  in  Scotland  a  location 
better  adapted  to  his  requirements. 

Here  the  good  part  of  his  nature  asserted  itself  —  for 
there  is  good  in  every  human  being,  if  only  the  key  can 
be  discovered  that  unlocks  the  secret  chambers.  The 
poor  misshapen  dwarf  found  his  in  the  cultivation  of  a 
little  garden,  shut  out  from  an  unsympathetic  world  by 
a  stone  wall  of  his  own  construction.  Within  this  sacred 
enclosure  a  profusion  of  flowers  rankly  unfolded  their 
beauties  to  his  eyes  and  shrank  not  from  his  touch.  He 
had  contrived  to  obtain  some  rare  exotics  and  to  learn 
their  scientific  names.  He  planted  fruit  trees  in  his 
garden  and  surrounded  his  little  house  with  willows 
and  mountain  ashes,  until  he  had  converted  it  into  a 
fairy  bower.  He  found  pleasure  and  profit  in  the  raising 
of  vegetables,  and  even  cultivated  certain  medicinal 
herbs  which  he  sold  or  gave  to  the  neighbours.  He  also 
supplied  some  of  the  gentlemen  of  the  vicinity  with 
honey  and  took  great  delight  in  the  care  of  his  bees.  A 

163 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

cat,  a  dog,  and  a  goat  completed  the  roll  of  his  best-loved 
companions. 

Besides  the  pleasure  he  took  in  the  contemplation  of 
his  own  garden,  Ritchie  was  an  ardent  admirer  of  the 
natural  beauty  of  the  country  which  he  had  chosen  for 
his  home.  *  The  soft  sweep  of  the  green  hill,  the  bubbling 
of  a  clear  fountain  or  the  complexities  of  a  wild  thicket, 
were  scenes  on  which  he  often  gazed  for  hours  and,  as 
he  said,  with  inexpressible  delight.'  He  felt  that  sense 
of  rest  and  refreshment  from  the  contemplation  of  nature 
which  Bryant  has  so  finely  expressed:  — 

To  him  who  in  the  love  of  Nature  holds 
Communion  with  her  visible  forms,  she  speaks 
A  various  language:  for  his  gayer  hours 
She  has  a  voice  of  gladness,  and  a  smile 
And  eloquence  of  beauty,  and  she  glides 
Into  his  darker  musings,  with  a  mild 
And  healing  sympathy,  that  steals  away 
Their  sharpness,  ere  he  is  aware. 

To  this  great  comfort,  the  poor  misanthrope  added 
another  —  the  reading  of  good  books.  He  was  fond  of 
the  history  of  Wallace,  Bruce,  and  other  Scottish  heroes, 
and  he  also  had  a  love  of  poetry.  Scott  speaks  of  his 
familiarity  with  'Paradise  Lost'  and  says  he  has  heard 
'  his  most  unmusical  voice  repeat  the  celebrated  descrip- 
tion of  Paradise,  which  he  seemed  fully  to  appreciate.* 
Though  not  a  man  of  orthodox  religious  beliefs,  he  would 
occasionally  speak  of  the  future  life  with  great  earnest- 
ness and  on  such  occasions  would  sometimes  burst  into 
tears.  He  had  chosen  a  wild  and  beautiful  sp>ot  on  a 
neighbouring  hillside  for  the  place  of  his  burial.  It  was 
covered  with  green  ferns  and  enclosed  with  a  circle  of 
his  favourite  rowan  or  mountain  ash,  planted  with  his 

164 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 

own  hands,  partly  because  of  their  beauty,  but  largely 
on  account  of  their  potency  in  guarding  the  grave 
against  evil  spirits.  He  haughtily  expressed  great  abhor- 
rence of  being  interred  in  the  parish  churchyard  with 
what  he  contemptuously  called  the  'common  brush,' 
but  in  the  last  moments  his  heart  became  softened 
towards  his  fellow  men,  his  antipathies  relaxed,  and  his 
final  wish  was  that  he  might  be  buried  with  his  fathers. 
The  writing  of  a  novel  based  upon  a  character  so 
grotesque  and  repellent  was  not  weU  suited  to  a  man  of 
Scott's  wholesome  and  genial  temperament.  He  soon 
tired  of  it,  and  indeed  the  only  satisfaction  he  got  out  of 
it  was  in  presenting  the  better  side  of  the  Black  Dwarf's 
nature.  He  came  in  time  to  agree  with  the  criticism  of 
the  publisher,  William  Blackwood,  to  which  at  first 
he  had  strenuously  objected,  and  the  novel,  originally 
intended  to  be  in  two  volumes,  was  crowded  into  one 
and  hurried  to  an  end,  thereby  producing  a  narrative,  as 
the  author  facetiously  remarked  in  later  years, '  as  much 
disproportioned  and  distorted  as  the  Black  Dwarf,  who 
is  its  subject.' 


CHAPTER    Xn 

OLD   MORTALITY 

In  the  grounds  of  the  Observatory  at  Maxwelltown, 
across  the  river  from  Dumfries,  is  a  small  pavilion, 
enclosing  two  sculptured  figures.  One  represents  an  old 
Scotchman,  half  reclining  on  a  tombstone,  a  chisel  in 
his  left  hand  and  a  mallet  resting  by  his  side;  the  other 
is  a  pony,  apparently  waiting  for  his  master  to  arise. 
The  sculptures  were  the  work  of  a  local  artist.  They 
were  disposed  of  by  lottery  to  a  young  man,  who  died 
by  accident  the  next  day,  and  they  are  here  deposited  as 
a  curious  'memorial  to  departed  worth.' 

The  figures,  thus  used  as  a  monument  to  the  man  who 
chanced  to  own  them,  were  intended  to  represent  a  very 
different  person.  'Old  Mortality'  and  his  pony  were 
familiar  to  the  people  of  Dumfriesshire  and  other  parts 
of  Scotland  for  more  than  forty  years.  His  real  name, 
as  is  well  known,  was  Robert  Paterson.  He  was  a  mason 
or  stone-cutter  by  trade,  who  operated  a  small  quarry. 
In  middle  life  he  became  so  thoroughly  imbued  with  the 
religious  enthusiasm  of  the  Cameronians,  of  which  aus- 
tere sect  he  was  a  zealous  member,  that  he  felt  impelled 
to  desert  his  wife  and  five  children,  in  order  that  he 
might  perform  the  duty  which,  he  conceived,  had  de- 
volved upon  him.  This  was  to  travel  about  the  country 
and  repair  the  gravestones  of  the  martyred  Covenant- 
ers. He  would  clear  off  the  moss  from  the  old  stones  and 
recut  the  half-defaced  inscriptions,  doing  this  often  in 

i66 


OLD  MORTALITY 

remote  and  almost  inaccessible  recesses  of  the  mount- 
ains and  moors.  Scarcely  a  churchyard  in  Ayr,  Gallo- 
way, or  Dumfriesshire  is  without  some  evidences  of  his 
work. 

In  spite  of  his  eccentricity  there  was  a  fine  sincerity  of 
purpose  in  the  old  man's  devotion  to  his  self-appointed 
task.  He  believed  that  each  grave  should  serve  as  a 
warning  to  posterity  to  defend  their  religious  faith,  and 
he  purposed  to  make  every  one,  however  obscure,  a 
beacon  light,  so  to  speak,  to  proclaim  to  all  the  world 
the  sufferings  and  devotion  of  the  Covenanters,  and  thus 
to  perpetuate  the  ideals  for  which  they  strove.  However 
mistaken  he  may  have  been  as  to  the  wisdom  of  his 
methods,  his  calling  was  apparently  as  real  to  himself  and 
as  sincere  as  that  of  any  minister  of  the  Gospel.  He  was 
found  dying  on  the  highway  one  day  in  his  eighty-sixth 
year,  the  little  old  white  pony  standing  patiently  by  his 
side.  Thus  he  wore  out  his  life  in  the  service  of  his  relig- 
ion, as  truly  devoted  to  it  as  any  of  the  martyrs  who 
perished  on  battle-field  or  scaffold.  His  grave  is  marked 
by  an  appropriate  stone  in  the  churchyard  of  Caer- 
laverock,  south  of  Dumfries. 

Scott,  who  once  met  the  old  man  in  the  churchyard  of 
Dunottar  and  saw  him  actually  engaged  in  his  usual 
task,  sought  an  interview,  but  in  spite  of  a  good  dinner 
and  some  Uquid  refreshments,  which  were  quite  accept- 
able, was  unable  to  induce  him  to  speak  of  his  expe- 
riences. This  was  when  the  novelist  was  a  young  lawyer 
and  long  before  he  had  thought  of  looking  for  materials 
for  a  novel. 

'Old  Mortality,'  which  many,  including  Lord  Tenny- 
son, have  regarded  as  the  greatest  of  Scott's  novels,  was 

167 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

introduced  to  the  public  in  a  curious  way.  The  real 
author,  as  usual,  concealed  his  identity.  The  ostensible 
writer  is  Jedediah  Cleishbotham,  a  schoolmaster,  who 
in  turn  denies  the  actual  authorship  of  the  story,  but 
claims  to  be  merely  the  possessor  of  some  posthumous 
papers  of  his  late  pupil,  Peter  Pattieson,  who  has  only 
transcribed  some  tales  he  had  heard  from  the  landlord 
of  Wallace  Inn.  Even  the  landlord  was  not  original,  for 
he  received  his  information  from  the  lips  of  'Old  Mor- 
tality.' Thus,  by  a  circuitous  route,  the  novelist  derives 
this  lengthy  but  extremely  interesting  tale  from  old 
Robert  Paterson,  whom  he  never  saw  but  once,  and 
then  failed  to  make  him  talk! 

After  the  Introduction  and  the  first  chapter,  in  which 
*  Old  Mortality '  is  briefly  presented,  we  hear  no  more  of 
him.  In  this  respect  the  novel  irresistibly  reminds  me 
of  the  celebrated  American  humourist,  who  advertised 
his  lecture  on  *  Milk.'  When  his  usual  large  audience  had 
assembled,  he  would  step  to  the  front  of  the  platform 
and  pour  out,  from  a  pitcher  conveniently  provided  for 
the  purpose,  a  glass  of  milk,  which  he  would  drink  with 
great  deliberation  before  uttering  a  word.  The  lecture 
then  followed  in  which  he  kept  his  hearers  convulsed 
with  laughter,  but  there  was  never  a  word  about  milk. 

Three  events,  all  within  the  space  of  two  months,  form 
the  historical  basis  of  'Old  Mortality.'  These  are  the 
murder  of  Archbishop  Sharp  on  May  3,  1679,  the  skir- 
mish at  Drumclog  on  June  i,  and  the  battle  of  BothweU 
Bridge,  June  22.  It  was  during  the  era  of  the  persecu- 
tion, in  the  reign  of  Charles  II,  of  the  Scottish  Covenant- 
ers, who  persistently  resisted  the  'Conventicle  Act' 
forbidding  the  gathering  of  more  than  five  persons  for 

z68 


" '^  OLD  MORTALITY 

religious  worship,  except  in  accordance  with  the  Estab- 
lished Church.  James  Sharp,  Archbishop  of  St.  An- 
drews, had  incurred  the  hatred  of  the  Covenanters  by 
selfishly  betraying  the  Scottish  Kirk.  An  attempt  upon 
his  hfe  was  made  in  1668  by  Robert  Mitchell,  who  was 
not  arrested  until  six  years  later.  He  confessed  under 
Sharp's  personal  promise  of  pardon,  but  was  sent  to 
Bass  Island,  where  he  remained  a  prisoner  without  trial 
for  four  years.  Sharp  then  denied  his  promise,  though 
it  was  proved  by  the  court  records,  and  demanded 
Mitchell's  death.  His  base  action  met  with  speedy 
revenge.  While  driving  with  his  daughter  he  was  set 
upon  by  a  party  of  nine  men  and  put  to  death  with 
the  most  atrocious  cruelty. 

The  real  leader  in  this  murder  was  John  Balfour  of 
Burley,  one  of  the  fiercest  and  most  fanatical  of  the 
proscribed  sect.  Though  he  professed  the  utmost  relig- 
ious fervour,  Burley  was  more  noted  for  the  violence 
and  zeal  with  which  he  undertook  the  most  desperate 
enterprises  and  for  his  courage  and  skill  with  the  sword. 
The  murder  of  Sharp  aroused  the  Government  to  new 
activities  and  no  less  stimulated  the  zeal  of  the  Cove- 
nanters. Burley  and  a  handful  of  his  followers  openly 
defied  their  enemies.  On  the  anniversary  of  the  Restora- 
tion, May  29,  they  interrupted  the  holiday,  which  they 
considered  'presumptuous  and  unholy.'  They  rode  into 
the  town  of  Rutherglen,  extinguished  the  bonfires  in 
honour  of  the  day,  burned  the  acts  of  Parliament  for  the 
suppression  of  the  conventicles  and  other  obnoxious 
laws,  and  concluded  their  'solemn  testimony'  with 
prayer  and  psalms. 

Three  days  later  a  conventicle  was  held  near  Loudon 
169 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

Hill,  at  which  no  doubt  sermons  like  those  of  Gabriel 
Kettlednunmle  and  Habakkuk  Mucklewrath  were 
preached  with  fiery  vehemence.  The  Covenanters 
seemed  to  depend  upon  their  reUgious  enthusiasm,  for 
they  were  poorly  armed  and  badly  organized.  Men  and 
women  who  had  no  arms  marched  out  to  battle,  relying 
upon  'the  spirit  given  forth  from  the  Lord.'  They  did 
not  wait  to  be  attacked,  but  advanced  eastward  about 
two  miles  from  Loudon  Hill  to  the  farm  of  Drumclog, 
singing  psalms  all  the  way.  Whether  by  accident  or 
design  they  made  their  stand  on  peculiarly  favourable 
ground  behind  a  marsh  too  soft  to  support  the  weight  of 
cavalry.  As  it  was  covered  with  green  herbage  and  only 
a  few  yards  in  width,  the  attacking  party,  led  by  John 
Grahame  of  Claverhouse,  did  not  know  of  its  existence. 

*No  quarter'  was  the  word  passed  along  on  both 
sides.  Claverhouse  and  his  dragoons,  despising  their 
foe,  dashed  down  the  declivity.  The  horses'  feet  were 
entangled  in  the  marsh  and  the  ranks  thrown  into  con- 
fusion. The  Covenanters,  seizing  the  opportunity  for 
which  they  had  waited,  made  a  spirited  attack  and  com- 
pletely routed  the  cavalry,  Claverhouse  himself  having 
a  narrow  escape.  Thirty-six  dragoons  were  killed,  while 
the  victors  lost  only  three.  The  successful  skirmish 
aroused  tremendous  enthusiasm  among  the  Cove- 
nanters, and  had  they  been  able  to  maintain  har- 
mony in  their  own  ranks,  might  have  led  to  a  serious 
rebellion. 

It  did  lead  to  the  battle  of  Bothwell  Bridge  which 
took  place  on  the  2 2d  of  the  same  month,  June,  1679. 
The  Government  leader  was  the  Diike  of  Monmouth, 
who  was  anxious  to  preserve  peace  and  avoid  bloodshed. 

170 


OLD  MORTALITY 

The  more  moderate  of  the  insurgents  sent  a  message 
offering  terms  upon  which  they  would  surrender.  The 
Duke  offered  to  interpose  with  the  King  on  their  behalf, 
provided  they  would  first  lay  down  their  arms.  The 
Cameronians  violently  opposed  the  moderate  policy 
and  favoured  a  fierce  and  even  desperate  resistance. 
While  they  were  debating  the  question,  the  sound  of  the 
enemy's  guns  broke  in  upon  them.  In  their  disorganized 
condition,  the  cause  of  the  Covenanters  was  hopeless 
and  the  Government  gained  an  easy  victory.  Claver- 
house  rode  at  the  head  of  his  own  troop,  who  were  thus 
able  to  avenge  the  disgraceful  defeat  at  Drumclog. 

It  was  the  portrait  of  John  Grahame  of  Claverhouse, 
hanging  in  the  library  of  Abbotsford,  which,  according  to 
Lockhart,  first  suggested  the  idea  of  the  novel.  Joseph 
Train  had  called  to  present  the  purse  of  Rob  Roy  and 
*a  fresh  heap  of  traditionary  gleanings,  which  he  had 
gathered  among  the  tale-tellers  of  his  district.'  Notic- 
ing the  handsome  features  revealed  by  the  portrait  of  a 
man  whom  most  Scotchmen  regarded  as  '  a  ruffian  des- 
perado, who  rode  a  gobhn  horse,  was  proof  against  shot, 
and  in  league  with  the  Devil,'  Train  expressed  his  sur- 
prise. After  Scott  had  defended  his  hero's  character, 
Train,  always  alive  to  the  possibilities  of  a  new  story, 
asked  whether  he  might  not  'be  made,  in  good  hands, 
the  hero  of  a  national  romance,  as  interesting  as  any 
about  either  Wallace  or  Prince  Charlie.'  Upon  receiving 
the  novelist's  conditional  assent.  Train  resumed:  'And 
what  if  the  story  were  to  be  delivered  as  if  from  the 
mouth  of  "  Old  Mortality  ?  " '  Train  then  told  what  he 
knew  of  old  Paterson,  offering  to  learn  more  and  report 
later.  Though  Scott  did  not  mention  it  at  the  time,  the 

171 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

conversation  recalled  his  earlier  meeting  with  Paterson, 

and  led  to  the  immediate  writing  of  the  novel. 

The  scenery  of  '  Old  Mortality '  required  us  to  explore 

the  course  of  the  river  Clyde  for  almost  its  entire  length. 

This  picturesque  stream  rises  in  the  high  country  near 

Moffat.  An  old  rhyme,  as  repeated  to  us  by  a  native  of 

Moffat,  nms  thus :  — 

Evan,  Annan,  Tweed  and  Clyde 
All  flow  out  from  ae  hillside. 

In  its  short  course  of  less  than  seventy-five  miles  to 
the  Firth  of  Clyde  at  Dmnbarton,  it  descends  toward 
the  sea  by  leaps  and  bounds,  forming  a  series  of  beauti- 
ful cataracts.  The  highest  and  most  famous  of  these 
is  Corra  Linn  where  Wordsworth  composed  a  poem, 
inspired  by  the  sight  of  Wallace's  Tower.  Here  the  river 
takes  a  triple  plunge  over  the  rocks  for  a  distance  of 
eighty-four  feet.  Not  less  imposing  is  Stonebyres  Linn, 
below  the  dty  of  Lanark,  where  the  fall  is  seventy-six 
feet. 

Following  the  downward  course  of  the  stream  we 
came  to  the  ruins  of  Craignethan  Castle,  at  the  juncture 
of  the  Nethan  with  the  Clyde.  'A  crag  above  the  river 
Nethan'  is  the  literal  meaning  of  the  name.  This  is 
Tillietudlem,  the  castle  which  Scott  made  the  residence 
of  Lady  Bellenden  and  her  granddaughter,  Edith.  A 
ravine  imder  the  old  castle  of  Lanark,  near  by,  known  as 
Gillytudlem,  no  doubt  suggested  the  name. 

In  the  autumn  of  1799,  while  on  a  visit  to  Lord  Doug- 
las at  Bothwell  Castle,  on  the  Clyde,  Scott  made  an 
excursion  to  Craignethan  and,  as  he  afterwards  said, 
immediately  fell  in  love  with  it  so  much  that  he  wanted 
to  live  there.  Lord  Douglas  offered  him  the  use  for  life 

172 


OLD  MORTALITY 

of  a  very  good  house  at  one  corner  of  the  court.  It  was 
built  in  1665  and  we  found  it  still  in  excellent  repair. 
Scott  did  not  at  once  decline  the  offer,  but  circumstances 
made  it  impossible  to  accept.  That  he  made  a  very  care- 
ful examination  of  the  ruin,  however,  is  shown  by  the 
unusually  accurate  descriptions. 

The  castle  stands  on  a  high  rock,  reached  by  a  long 
road  through  the  woods,  by  the  side  of  a  deep  glen.  I 
climbed  some  stairways  through  a  corner  of  the  building 
which  still  remains  intact,  and  stood  on  the  ruined  bat- 
tlement from  which  Major  Bellenden  valiantly  defended 
the  castle.  Here  I  had  a  fine  view  over  the  tree-tops  and 
could  see  the  village  of  Braidwood,  two  miles  away;  but 
the  road  over  which  Lady  Bellenden  saw  the  troops 
approaching  was  not  visible  to  my  eyes. 

From  this  point  also  I  had  a  good  view  of  the  court, 
which  I  could  fancy  almost  filled  with  a  motley  crowd  of 
soldiers,  domestic  servants,  and  retainers,  including  the 
bluff  and  stout-hearted  Sergeant  Bothwell,  who  died 
'hoping  nothing,  believing  nothing  —  and  fearing  no- 
thing'; the  intrepid  Tam  HalHday;  the  infamous  Inglis; 
the  old  drunken  cavaUering  butler,  John  Gudyill;  the 
faithful  ploughman,  Cuddie  Headrigg,  with  his  sweet- 
heart, Jenny  Dennison;  and  even  poor  little  half-witted 
Goose  Gibbie,  muffled  in  a  big  buff  coat,  'girded  rather 
to  than  with  the  sword  of  a  full-grown  man, '  his  feeble 
legs  'plunged  into  jack-boots  *  and  a  steel  cap  on  his  head 
so  big  as  completely  to  extinguish  him.  In  the  centre  of 
the  court  is  the  entrance  gate,  formerly  the  chapel;  on 
the  right  a  watch-tower  and  stable,  and  on  the  left  the 
very  substantial  house  now  occupied  by  the  keeper's 
family,  to  which  I  have  referred. 

173 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

The  keeper  next  conducted  me  to  the  rear  of  the  cas- 
tle, where  he  pointed  out  a  well-preserved  square  tower 
below  which  the  ground  slopes  at  a  sharp  angle  to  the 
river's  edge.  The  lower  part  was  used  as  a  dungeon, 
where  we  may  suppose  Henry  Morton  to  have  been  con- 
fined. It  was  once  occupied  by  a  nobleman  of  real  life, 
who,  not  so  fortunate  as  the  hero  of  the  novel,  was  led 
away  to  execution.  Above  the  dungeon  was  the  kitchen 
and  pantry,  with  windows  perhaps  twenty  feet  above 
the  groimd.  At  the  comer  there  was  once  an  old  yew, 
the  stump  of  which  may  still  be  seen. 

Readers  of  'Old  Mortality'  will  recall  that  during  the 
siege  of  the  castle,  Cuddie  Headrigg,  though  an  old  serv- 
ant, found  himself  with  the  opposing  army.  With  five 
or  six  companions  he  foimd  his  way  to  the  rear,  where 
there  was  less  danger,  and  proceeded  to  attempt  to  cap- 
ture the  stronghold  by  climbing  the  tree  and  gaining 
access  through  the  window  of  the  pantry.  All  might 
have  gone  well  had  it  not  been  for  the  fact  that  Jenny 
Dennison  had  chosen  the  pantry  as  the  safest  place  of 
retreat.  When,  therefore,  Cuddie's  figure  appeared  at 
the  window,  clad  in  the  steel  cap  and  buff  coat  which 
had  belonged  to  Sergeant  Bothwell,  Jenny  not  only 
failed  to  recognize  her  lover,  but  was  terribly  frightened. 
With  an  hysteric  scream  she  rushed  to  the  kitchen, 
where  she  had  hung  on  the  fire  a  pot  of  kail-brose  (a 
kind  of  vegetable  stew),  having  promised  to  prepare 
Tam  Halliday  his  breakfast.  Seizing  the  pot  and  still 
screaming,  she  jimiped  to  the  window  and  poured  the 
whole  scalding  contents  upon  the  head  and  shoulders 
of  the  unfortimate  Cuddie,  thus  'conferring  upon  one 
admirer's  outward  man  the  viands  which  her  fair  hands 

174 


OLD  MORTALITY 

had  so  lately  been  in  the  act  of  preparing  for  the 
stomach  of  another.' 

I  had  great  difl&culty  in  photographing  this  tower. 
The  decHvity  was  so  steep  that  it  was  almost  impossible 
either  to  place  the  tripod  in  proper  position  or  to  find  a 
footing  from  which  to  look  into  the  camera.  While  in 
the  midst  of  my  preparations  the  keeper  informed  me 
casually  that  a  man  had  fallen  down  the  slope  three 
weeks  before  and  broken  his  neck.  With  this  encourage- 
ment, I  persevered  and  was  finally  able  to  obtain  what 
I  believe  to  be  one  of  the  best  evidences  of  the  accuracy 
with  which  Scott  often  made  his  investigations  and  sub- 
sequent descriptions. 

On  one  of  our  excursions  from  Melrose,  we  followed 
the  course  of  the  Yarrow,  from  its  junction  with  the 
Ettrick  to  its  source  in  St.  Mary's  Loch ;  then  continuing 
to  the  southwest,  we  traced  the  course  of  Moffat  Water, 
which  forms  the  outlet  of  the  Loch  of  the  Lowes,  to  a 
point  just  above  the  place  where  the  stream  meets  the 
Evan  and  the  Annan;  then  turning  westward  and  pass- 
ing through  the  town  of  Moffat,  we  followed  the  course 
of  the  Tweed  northward  and  eastward  from  its  source 
to  our  starting-place.  For  a  large  part  of  this  drive,  we 
were  in  wild,  desolate  regions,  which  presented  to  us,  we 
were  weU  assured,  exactly  the  same  aspect  as  they  did 
to  Sir  Walter  Scott,  and  to  the  Covenanters  a  century 
or  more  before  his  time.  From  St.  Mary's  Loch  to  Mof- 
fat and  from  the  latter  northward  for  at  least  fifteen  or 
twenty  miles,  we  were  in  the  very  region  where  the  Cov- 
enanters were  wont  to  find  a  safe  retreat  from  persecu- 
tion. 

Scott  was  fond  of  riding  through  these  wild  mountain 

175 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

passes,  and  often  did  so  with  his  friend,  Skene,  of  Rubis- 
law,  who  has  left  an  entertaining  account  of  one  of  these 
e35)editions:  — 

One  of  our  earliest  expeditions  was  to  visit  the  wild  scen- 
ery of  the  mountainous  tract  above  Moffat,  including  the 
cascade  of  the  Grey  Mare's  Tail  and  the  dark  tarn  called 
Loch  Skene.  In  our  ascent  to  the  lake  we  got  completely 
bewildered  in  the  thick  fog  which  generally  envelops  the 
rugged  features  of  that  lovely  region ;  and  as  we  were  groping 
through  the  maze  of  bogs,  the  ground  gave  way,  and  down 
went  horse  and  horsemen  pell-mell  into  a  slough  of  peaty 
mud  and  black  water,  out  of  which,  entangled  as  we  were 
with  our  plaids  and  floundering  nags,  it  was  no  easy  matter 
to  get  extricated.  Indeed,  imless  we  had  prudently  left  our 
gallant  steeds  at  a  farmhouse  below  and  borrowed  hill-ponies 
for  the  occasion,  the  result  might  have  been  worse  than 
laughable.  As  it  was,  we  rose  like  the  spirits  of  the  bogs, 
covered  cap-d-pie  with  slime,  to  free  themselves  from  which 
our  wily  ponies  took  to  rolling  about  on  the  heather,  and  we 
had  nothing  for  it  but  following  their  example.  At  length,  as 
we  approached  the  gloomy  loch,  a  huge  eagle  heaved  himself 
from  the  margin  and  rose  right  over  us,  screaming  his  scorn 
of  the  intruders;  and  altogether  it  would  be  impossible  to  pic- 
ture anything  more  desolately  savage  than  the  scene  which 
opened,  as  if  raised  by  enchantment  on  purpose  to  gratify 
the  poet's  eye,  thick  clouds  of  fog  rolling  incessantly  over  the 
face  of  the  inky  waters,  but  rent  asunder,  now  in  one  direc- 
tion and  then  in  another  —  so  as  to  afford  us  a  glimpse  of 
some  projecting  rock  or  naked  point  of  land,  or  island  bear- 
ing a  few  scraggy  stumps  of  pine  —  and  then  closing  again 
in  universal  darkness  upon  the  cheerless  waste.  Much  of  the 
scenery  of  *  Old  MortaUty '  was  drawn  from  that  day's  ride. 

James  Hogg,  who  conducted  the  party  on  that  day, 
says:  — 

I  conducted  them  through  that  wild  region  by  a  path, 
which  if  not  rode  by  Clavers,  as  reported,  never  was  rode  by 

176 


OLD  MORTALITY 

another  gentleman.  ...  Sir  Walter,  in  the  very  worst  paths, 
never  dismounted  save  at  Loch  Skene  to  take  some  dinner. 
We  went  to  Moffat  that  night,  where  we  met  with  Lady 
Scott  and  Sophia  and  such  a  day  and  night  of  glee  I  never 
witnessed.  Our  very  perils  were  to  him  matters  of  infinite 
merriment. 

The  Grey  Mare's  Tail  is  a  waterfall  three  or  four  hun- 
dred feet  in  height,  forming  the  outlet  of  Loch  Skene.  It 
is  a  narrow  stream  and  the  water  comes  boiling  and  bub- 
bling in  foamy  whiteness  over  the  ruggedestof  rocks  and 
through  the  wildest  of  ravines. 

I  am  inclined  to  think  that  Scott,  in  striving  to  find  a 
retreat  for  Balfour,  or  Burley,  poetically  in  keeping  with 
the  stem,  fierce,  and  dangerous  character  of  that  terri- 
ble individual,  combined  the  awesome  features  of  the 
Grey  Mare's  Tail  with  the  wild  beauty  of  another  ravine 
which  he  had  visited.  The  latter  is  the  deep  gulch 
known  as  Crichope  Linn,  near  the  village  of  Closeburn, 
north  of  Dumfries.  A  narrow  stream,  flowing  through 
a  thick  wood,  has  cut  a  deep  chasm  in  the  soUd  rock, 
through  which  the  water  has  carved  many  curious  chan- 
nels. One  of  these  is  called  'Hell's  Cauldron,'  where  the 
water  has  worn  a  deep  roimd  hole,  through  which  it 
rushes  with  terrific  force.  Near  by  is  the  Soutar's  Seat, 
so  called  from  the  legend  that  a  'soutar'  or  cobbler  used 
to  conceal  himself  there  to  mend  the  shoes  of  the  Cove- 
nanters. 

I  had  the  pleasure  of  walking  up  the  stream  to  the 
falls  through  the  wet  woods,  in  a  rainstorm,  without  a 
guide.  The  loneliness  of  my  situation,  —  for  I  did  not 
encounter  a  soul  on  the  journey,  —  added  to  the  mist 
in  the  atmosphere,  gave  an  impression,  which  I  might 

177 


\ 


THE   COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

not  otherwise  have  had,  of  the  absolute  security  of  such 
a  hiding-place.  I  tried  to  fancy  old  Burley  appearing 
at  some  opening  in  the  rocks  and  myself  leaping  across 
the  chasm,  as  did  Henry  Morton,  to  get  out  of  his  way. 
I  was  not  obliged  to  attempt  any  such  feat.  But  I  felt 
that  a  visit  to  this  strange  locaHty  had  given  me  a  better 
idea  of  the  closing  scenes  of  the  novel  than  I  had  ever 
had  before. 

'Old  Mortality'  will  always  be  remembered  for  its 
animated  picture  of  the  Covenanters  and  the  conditions 
under  which  they  lived.  It  was  an  era  of  perverted  senti- 
ment in  poUtics  and  religion.  The  times  were  'out  of 
joint' more  truly  than  in  the  days  of  Hamlet.  A  power- 
ful and  tyrannical  Government  was  exhibiting  cowardly 
fear  of  a  small  minority  of  determined  people,  who 
demanded  only  the  rights  that  had  been  previously 
guaranteed.  A  policy  of  intolerant  persecution  pre- 
vailed. The  bullies  of  the  Government  laughed  to  scorn 
the  more  statesmanlike  propositions  of  moderation  and 
fair  dealing.  Under  these  conditions  a  helpless  and 
miserable  people  foimd  their  strength  in  an  underlying 
perception  of  the  truth  and  justice  of  their  cause.  They 
were  exhibiting  that  quahty  which,  from  Magna  Charta 
to  the  present  time,  has  come  to  the  front  at  every 
crisis  in  the  history  of  Britain  and  America  and  is  at  the 
root  of  the  power  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race  —  the  qual- 
ity of  earnest  and  sincere  faith  in  the  right  of  man  to 
civil  liberty  and  religious  freedom.  If,  in  the  excess  of 
their  enthusiasm,  these  people  Jbecame  bigoted  and  in- 
tolerant, and  if  their  frenzied  reading  of  the  Scriptures 
enabled  them  to  find  texts  to  justify  every  sort  of  deed 
of  violence  and  cruelty,  the  harsh  measures  of  a  corrupt, 

178 


CRICHOPE    LINN 


OLD  MORTALITY 

selfish,  and  incompetent  Government  would  at  least 
explain  the  unhappy  conditions. 

Scott's  marvellous  imagination  enabled  him  to  reani- 
mate the  people  of  this  excited  period.  In  Habakkuk 
Mucklewrath  we  have  the  extreme  of  crazy  religious 
fervor  and  in  Balfour  of  Burley  the  perfect  embodiment 
of  that  brute  force  which  was  so  strangely  blended  with 
pious  ideals.  Henry  Morton,  the  hero  of  the  tale,  whose 
lot  is  cast  with  the  Covenanters,  is  out  of  place  in  the 
picture,  but  he  sufficiently  typifies  that  class  who  were 
opposed  to  the  extreme  measures  of  the  Cameronians. 

On  the  Government  side,  Claverhouse,  to  whom  Scott 
endeavours  to  do  justice.  General  Dalzell,  the  Duke  of 
Monmouth,  and  the  Duke  of  Lauderdale  are  pictured, 
fairly  enough,  in  the  colours  of  history. 

Scott's  treatment  of  the  Covenanters  aroused  great 
controversy,  some  of  their  admirers  taking  him  to  task 
in  severe  terms  for  his  alleged  lack  of  fairness.  What- 
ever may  be  said  on  this  point,  there  is  no  doubt  that  he 
touches  the  true  sublimity  of  their  faith  in  his  account 
of  the  torture  and  death  of  the  Reverend  Ephraim  Mac- 
briar.  The  dauntless  preacher  was  brought  before  the 
Privy  Council  and  interrogated  by  the  Duke  of  Lauder- 
dale. Refusing  to  reply  to  an  important  question,  he 
was  dramatically  confronted  with  the  ghastly  apparition 
of  the  public  executioner  and  his  horrible  implements  of 
torture. 

*Do  you  know  who  that  man  is? '  said  Lauderdale  in  a  low, 
stem  voice,  almost  sinking  into  a  whisper. 

*He  is,  I  suppose,'  replied  Macbriar,  '  the  infamous  execu- 
tioner of  your  bloodthirsty  commands  upon  the  persons  of 
God's  people.  He  and  you  are  equally  beneath  my  regard; 

179 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

and,  I  bless  God,  I  no  more  fear  what  he  can  inflict  than  what 
you  can  command.  Flesh  and  blood  may  shrink  under  the 
sufiFerings  you  can  doom  me  to,  and  poor  frail  nature  may 
shed  tears,  or  send  forth  cries;  but  I  trust  my  soul  is  anchored 
firmly  on  the  rock  of  ages.* 

By  the  Duke's  command  the  executioner  then  ad- 
vanced and  placed  before  the  prisoner  an  iron  case 
called  the  Scottish  boot,  so  constructed  that  it  would 
enclose  the  leg  and  knee  of  the  victim  with  a  tight  fit. 
An  iron  wedge  and  a  mallet  completed  the  equipment. 
This  wedge,  when  placed  between  the  knee  and  the 
imyielding  iron  frame,  and  struck  a  sharp  blow  with  the 
mallet,  was  calculated  to  inflict  the  most  excruciating 
pain. 

Macbriar  faced  the  implement  without  flinching, 
while  the  executioner  asked  in  harsh,  discordant  tones 
which  leg  he  should  take  first. 

'Since  you  leave  it  to  me,'  said  the  prisoner,  stretching 
forth  his  right  leg, '  take  the  best  —  I  willingly  bestow  it  in 
the  cause  for  which  I  suffer.' 

Here  Scott  makes  use  of  the  actual  words  of  James 
Mitchell,  who  suffered  similar  torture  for  his  attempt 
on  the  life  of  Archbishop  Sharp. 

When  Macbriar  was  led  to  his  execution,  he  thanked 
the  Council  for  his  sentence  and  forgave  them,  say- 
ing:— 

And  why  should  I  not?  —  Ye  send  me  to  a  happy  exchange 
—  to  the  company  of  angels  and  spirits  of  the  just,  for  that 
of  frail  dust  and  ashes.  —  Ye  send  me  from  darkness  into 
day  —  from  mortality  to  immortality  —  and  in  a  word,  from 
earth  to  heaven!  If  the  thanks  therefore,  and  pardon  of  a 
dying  man  can  do  you  good,  take  them  at  my  hand,  and 
may  yoiu:  last  moments  be  as  happy  as  mine! 

i8o 


OLD  MORTALITY 

And  thus,  'his  countenance  radiant  with  joy  and  tri- 
umph/ he  was  led  to  his  execution,  'dying  with  the 
same  enthusiastic  firmness  which  his  whole  life  had 
evinced.' 

The  book  which  contains  this  superb  presentation  of 
a  thrilling  epoch  of  Scottish  history  is  justly  termed,  by 
Lockhart,  the  Marmion  of  the  Waverley  Novels. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

ROB  ROY 

An  old  flintlock  gun  of  extreme  length,  with  silver  plate 
containing  the  initials  R.  M.  C. ;  a  fine  Highland  broad- 
sword, with  the  highly  prized  Andrea  Ferrara  mark  on 
the  blade;  a  dirk  two  feet  long,  with  carved  handle  and 
silver-mounted  sheath;  a  skene  dhu,  or  black  knife,  a 
short  thick  weapon  of  the  kind  used  in  the  Highlands  for 
dispatching  game  or  other  servile  purposes  for  which  it 
would  be  a  profanation  to  use  the  dirk;  a  well-worn 
brown  leather  purse;  and  a  sporran,  with  semicircular 
clasp  and  secret  lock,  which  for  a  century  has  defied  the 
ingenuity  of  all  who  have  attempted  to  open  it,  are 
among  the  treasures  of  Abbotsford.  They  were  all  once 
the  property  of  Robert  MacGregor  Campbell,  or  Rob 
Roy,  the  famous  'Robin  Hood  of  the  Highlands.' 

When  I  was  permitted  to  take  the  long  old-fashioned 
gun  into  my  own  hands  and  to  test  its  weight  by  carry- 
ing the  butt  to  my  shoulder  and  casting  my  eye  over  the 
long  octagonal  barrel,  I  could  not  help  feeling  that  Rob 
Roy  was  a  far  less  mythical  person  than  his  prototype 
of  the  Forest  of  Sherwood. 

Rob  Roy  was,  indeed,  a  very  real  person,  as  the  Duke 
of  Montrose  knew  to  his  sorrow,  but  the  stories  of  his 
exploits  are  so  strange,  and  at  the  same  time  so  fascinat- 
ing, that  it  is  difl5cult  to  determine  where  biography  ends 
and  pure  fiction  begins.  The  MacGregor  clan  to  which 
he  belonged  had  been  for  three  hundred  years  the  victims 

182 


ROB  ROY 

of  gross  injustice.  David  II,  the  son  of  Robert  Bruce, 
began  the  oppression  by  wrongfully  bestowing  their 
lands  upon  the  rival  clan  of  the  Campbells.  The  Mac- 
Gregors  were  forced  to  a  struggle  for  self-preservation, 
and  manfully  fought  to  maintain  their  rights,  exhibiting 
extraordinary  courage  and  endurance.  But  their  acts  of 
heroism  and  self-defence  were  construed  at  court  as  evi- 
dences of  lawlessness  and  rebellion.  Strenuous  efforts 
were  made  to  suppress  them,  but  all  such  attempts  were 
met  with  fiery  vindictiveness.  Each  act  of  violence  led 
to  one  of  vengeance.  The  clan  came  to  be  regarded  as  a 
fierce  and  untameable  race  of  outlaws.  Rendered  savage 
and  cruel  by  a  treatment  which  left  no  lawful  means  of 
obtaining  a  livelihood,  pursued  with  fire  and  sword  by 
the  leaders  of  powerful  neighbouring  clans,  whose  sub- 
jects were  forbidden  to  give  them  food  or  shelter,  the 
MacGregors  were  driven  to  desperation.  Violent  deeds 
of  retaliation  occurred  which  no  amount  of  provocation 
would  justify.  Murders,  outrages,  and  bloody  skir- 
mishes were  of  frequent  occurrence.  These  conflicts 
reached  a  terrible  crisis  in  the  battle  of  Glenfruin, 
fought  on  the  shores  of  Loch  Lomond  with  the  powerful 
clan  of  Colquhoun,  of  whom  two  hundred  or  three  hun- 
dred were  slaughtered,  many  of  them  being  killed  with- 
out reason  after  the  battle  was  over. 

One  of  the  leaders  of  the  MacGregors,  who  was 
accused,  perhaps  unjustly,  of  murdering  a  party  of  cler- 
ical students  who  had  merely  stopped  to  witness  the 
fight,  was  Dugald  Ciar  Mohr,  the  'great  mouse-coloured 
man,'  so  called  from  the  colour  of  his  face  and  hair.  He 
was  a  man  of  ferocious  character  and  enormous  strength, 
and  was  one  of  the  ancestors  of  Rob  Roy. 

183 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

This  event  led  to  various  Acts  of  Council,  proscrib- 
ing the  MacGregors  as  outlaws,  prohibiting  them  from 
carrying  weapons,  and  forbidding  them  even  to  meet 
together  in  groups  of  more  than  four.  The  very  name 
of  the  clan  was  abolished,  and  any  one  who  should  call 
himself  either  Gregor  or  MacGregor  was  made  liable  to 
suffer  the  penalty  of  death. 

Rob  Roy  was  the  product  of  these  long  years  of  relent- 
less persecution  and  retaliation.  His  family  occupied 
the  mountain  ranges  between  Loch  Lomond  and  Loch 
Katrine,  where  they  possessed  considerable  property. 
The  date  of  his  birth  is  uncertain,  but  it  was  probably 
1660  or  1 66 1.  In  the  latter  year,  through  the  orders  of 
King  Charles  II,  the  acts  against  the  MacGregors  were 
annulled  and  their  name  restored.  The  king,  however, 
could  not  annul  the  effects  of  three  centuries  of  civil 
warfare  and  vengeful  retribution,  nor  prevent  Rob  Roy 
from  inheriting  some  of  the  traits  of  his 'mouse-coloured' 
ancestor.  Rob  is  described  as  a  man  of  medium  height, 
but  of  extraordinary  strength.  His  powers  of  endur- 
ance were  greater  than  those  of  any  other  member  of  his 
clan.  His  arms  were  said  to  be  seven  inches  longer  than 
those  of  the  average  man.  This  gave  him  a  great  advan- 
tage with  the  broadsword,  which  he  could  wield  with 
uncommon  skill  and  effectiveness.  His  head  was  cov- 
ered with  a  shock  of  thick,  curly  red  hair,  from  which 
fact  he  derived  his  name,  Rob  Roy,  or  Rob  the  Red. 
He  had  keen,  flashing,  grey  eyes  and  a  firm  mouth, 
which  betokened  a  man  with  whom  it  would  be  danger- 
ous to  trifle,  but  these  features  could  be  frank,  cheerful, 
and  full  of  kindness  when  among  his  friends.  He  had 
none  of  the  ferocity  or  cruelty  of  that  ancestor  whose 

184 


ROB  ROY 

great  powers  he  seemed  to  have  inherited.  On  the  con- 
trary, though  bold  in  the  execution  of  his  purposes,  he 
avoided  unnecessary  bloodshed.  Though  driven  by  fate 
to  the  life  of  an  outlaw,  he  was  a  man  of  humane  instincts 
and  under  happier  circumstances  might  have  been  a 
public  benefactor. 

This  is  the  explanation  of  his  extraordinary  success 
in  eluding  pursuit.  His  kindliness  of  disposition  and 
friendly  helpfulness  had  raised  up  friends  in  every  part 
of  the  country.  In  this  respect  he  was  like  Robin  Hood. 
He  struck  at  the  rich  and  powerful  when  they  molested 
him,  but  to  the  poor  he  was  generous  and  helpful.  He 
was  a  kind  and  gentle  robber,  who  carried  a  sense  of 
humour  into  his  boldest  outrages,  and  contrived  to  take 
the  property  of  his  rich  enemy  without  molesting  the 
latter's  poor  tenants,  usually  managing  to  make  the  vic- 
tim ridiculous  in  the  eyes  of  his  associates. 

Again  and  again  the  Duke  of  Montrose  sent  expedi- 
tions after  him,  but  invariably  some  friend  of  Rob's 
carried  the  news  to  him  well  in  advance  or  sent  the 
Duke's  people  off  in  a  wrong  direction,  so  that  they 
were  always  either  disgracefully  defeated  or  hopelessly 
bewildered.  Meanwhile,  Rob  would  be  pretty  sure  to 
appear  unexpectedly  at  some  point  on  the  Duke's  estate 
and  sweep  away  everything  in  sight.  Each  new  failure 
brought  added  wrath  to  the  Duke,  which  the  satirical 
remarks  of  his  companions  did  not  tend  to  soften. 

When  Montrose  deprived  MacGregor  of  his  lands  of 
Craigroyston,  along  the  eastern  shore  of  Loch  Lomond, 
Rob  had  no  redress  in  the  courts,  but  he  managed  to 
square  accoimts  pretty  well  by  driving  off  annually 
large  numbers  of  the  Duke's  cattle,  and  collecting  rents, 

i8S 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

for  which  he  invariably  gave  receipts.  He  made  Craig- 
royston  unbearable  for  any  one  who  attempted  to  live 
there,  until  finally  a  Mr.  Graham  of  Killearn,  the  Duke's 
factor,  took  possession.  This  was  exactly  what  Rob  Roy 
wanted,  for  Graham  was  the  man  who,  in  MacGregor's 
absence,  had  burned  the  house  of  the  latter  at  Bal- 
quhidder  and  brutally  thrust  his  wife  out  of  doors  in  a 
cold  winter  night.  Rob  ever  after  regarded  him  with 
fierce  vindictiveness.  Graham's  cattle  mysteriously  dis- 
appeared time  after  time  until  Craigroyston  became 
unbearable  for  him  also. 

Rob  had  a  queer  way  of  appearing  suddenly  in  places 
where  he  was  least  expected.  One  day  when  Graham 
was  drinking  at  a  tavern  and  angrily  relating  his  troubles 
to  a  chance  acquaintance,  he  exclaimed,  'Gin  God  or 
the  de'il  wad  gie  me  a  meeting  wi'  that  thievin'  loon, 
Rob  Roy  MacGregor,  I  'd  pay  aff  my  score  wi'  him.  But 
the  villain  aye  keeps  oot  o'  my  road.'  '  Here  we  are, 
then,'  was  the  reply,  'whether  it's  God  or  the  de'il 
has  brocht  us  thegether.  Nae  time  like  the  noo,  sir,  for 
if  ye 're  Graham  o'  Killearn,  I'm  Rob  Roy  MacGregor.' 
Graham  did  not  stand  on  the  order  of  his  going,  but  made 
his  exit  by  leaps  and  bounds  imtil  three  long  miles  were 
put  between  him  and  '  that  devil  of  a  MacGregor.* 

On  one  occasion  Graham  had  called  the  tenants  of  a 
certain  district  to  meet  at  a  small  house,  according  to 
custom,  to  pay  their  rent.  Rob  Rob,  with  a  single 
attendant,  whom  he  called  'the  Bailie,'  reached  the 
house  after  dark,  and  looking  through  the  window,  saw 
Killearn  with  a  bag  of  money  in  his  hand  and  heard  him 
say  he  would  cheerfully  give  it  all  for  Rob  Roy's  head. 
Rob  instantly  gave  orders  in  a  loud  voice  to  place  two 

i86 


ROB   ROY 

men  at  each  window,  two  at  each  corner  and  four  at 
each  of  the  doors,  as  if  he  had  twenty  men.  He  and  his 
attendant  then  walked  boldly  in,  each  with  broadsword 
in  his  right  hand  and  a  pistol  in  his  left,  and  a  goodly 
display  of 'dirks  and  pistols  in  their  belts.  He  then  coolly 
ordered  Killearn  to  put  the  money  on  the  table  and 
coimt  it,  and  to  draw  a  proper  receipt  showing  that  he, 
Rob  Roy,  had  received  the  money  from  the  Duke  of 
Montrose  on  accoimt.  Then,  finding  that  some  of  the 
tenants  had  not  been  given  receipts  for  their  rent,  he 
caused  these  to  be  drawn  so  that  no  poor  man  should 
suffer,  after  which  he  ordered  supper  for  all  present,  for 
which  he  paid.  When  they  had  eaten  their  meal  and 
drunk  together  for  several  hours,  he  called  upon  'the 
Bailie '  to  produce  his  dirk  and  take  the  solemn  oath  of 
the  factor  that  he  would  not  move  nor  direct  any  one 
else  to  move  out  of  the  house  for  at  least  one  hour. 
Pointing  to  the  dirk  to  signify  what  the  agent  might 
expect  if  he  broke  his  oath,  Rob  calmly  walked  away 
with  the  bag  of  money,  which  he  considered  rightfully 
his  own,  and  was  soon  beyond  pursuit.  On  another 
occasion  MacGregor  not  only  took  possession  of  the 
rents  which  this  same  gentleman  had  collected,  but  also 
carried  him  away  to  a  small  island  in  the  west  end  of 
Loch  Katrine,  where,  after  entertaining  him  five  or  six 
days,  he  dismissed  his  guest  (or  prisoner),  returning  all 
the  books  and  papers,  but  taking  good  care  to  keep  the 
cash. 

The  escape  of  Rob  Roy  from  the  Duke  of  Montrose 
was  based  upon  an  actual  occurrence.  He  was  surprised 
by  Montrose  and  taken  prisoner  in  the  Braes  of  Bal- 
quhidder.  He  was  then  mounted  behind  a  soldier  named 

187 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

James  Stewart  and  secured  by  a  horse-girth.  In  crossing 
a  stream,  probably  the  Forth  at  the  Fords  of  Frew,  Mac- 
Gregor  induced  Stewart  to  give  him  a  chance  'for  auld 
acquaintance'  sake.'  Stewart,  moved  by  compassion  or 
possibly  fear,  slipped  the  girth-buckle  and  Rob,  drop- 
ping off  the  horse,  dived,  swam  below  the  surface,  and 
finally  escaped. 

The  novelist's  acquaintance  with  the  country  of  Rob 
Roy  began  in  his  sixteenth  year,  when  with  a  military 
escort  of  a  sergeant  and  six  men,  he  first  entered  the 
Highlands.  He  was  then  a  lawyer's  clerk,  and  his  object 
was  to  obtain  possession  of  a  certain  small  farm  in  the 
Braes  of  Balquhidder,  known  as  Invementy,  to  secure 
some  debts  due  from  the  owner,  Stewart  of  Appin.  The 
farm  had  been  a  part  of  the  property  claimed  by  Rob 
Roy,  and  in  the  late  years  of  the  cateran's  Ufe  there  had 
been  a  great  dispute  over  it  with  the  Stewarts.  The 
quarrel  was  finally  adjusted  and  a  family  of  MacLarens 
took  possession  as  tenants  of  Stewart.  After  the  death 
of  Rob  Roy,  his  son,  Robin  Oig,  probably  instigated  by 
his  mother,  declared  that  if  he  could  get  possession  of  a 
certain  gun  of  his  father's,  he  would  shoot  MacLaren. 
He  kept  his  word,  using  the  weapon  to  which  I  have 
referred  at  the  beginning  of  this  chapter.  The  descend- 
ants of  MacLaren  remained  on  the  farm  and  refused  to 
leave.  So  long  as  they  were  there,  the  property  could 
not  be  sold.  It  chanced  that  one  of  Scott's  earliest  legal 
undertakings  was  to  secure  the  eviction  of  these  unde- 
sirable tenants.  When  he  arrived  the  house  was  empty, 
the  MacLarens  not  caring  to  make  any  serious  opposi- 
tion. 

The  Kirk  of  Balquhidder,  where  Rob  Roy  made  his 
i88 


ROB  ROY 

settlement  with  the  Stewarts,  stands  at  the  foot  of  Loch 
Voil,  a  few  miles  off  the  main  road  from  Callander  to 
Lochearnhead.  It  is  a  small  ivy-covered  chapel,  stand- 
ing beneath  the  shadow  of  two  large  trees.  In  front  is 
an  iron  railing,  of  recent  construction,  enclosing  the 
graves  of  Rob  Roy,  his  wife,  Helen  MacGregor,  whose 
real  name  was  Mary,  and  two  of  his  sons.  He  died  a 
natural  death  in  1 734,  at  an  age  which  has  been  vari- 
ously stated  as  between  seventy  and  eighty  years. 

The  first  appearance  of  Rob  Roy  in  the  novel  is  when 
under  the  name  of  Campbell  (his  mother's  name,  which 
he  assumed,  probably  for  prudential  reasons),  he  makes 
the  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Frank  Osbaldistone  at  the  Black 
Bear  of  Darlington.  Frank,  it  will  be  remembered,  is  on 
the  way  to  his  uncle's  estate  in  Northmnberland.  There 
isHttle  by  which  Osbaldistone  Hall  can  be  identified,  but 
if  geographical  considerations  count  for  anything,  it  is 
not  improbable  that  Scott  may  have  had  in  mind  Chil- 
lingham  Castle,  the  seat  of  the  Earl  of  Tankerville.  This 
is  one  of  the  places  to  which  he  refers  in  a  letter  written 
in  the  summer  of  179 1,  as  'within  the  compass  of  a  fore- 
noon's ride,'  from  the  farm  in  the  Cheviot  Hills,  south- 
west of  Wooler,  where  he  was  then  staying.  During  that 
vacation  excursion  he  became  very  familiar  with  all  the 
surrounding  country,  an  experience  which  doubtless  had 
something  to  do  with  choosing  Northumberland  as  the 
scene  of  an  important  part  of  the  novel.  Chillingham 
Castle  is  a  fine  type  of  the  old  baronial  residence.  It  was 
designed  by  Inigo  Jones,  the  famous  architect  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  though  portions  of  the  building 
are  still  preserved  which  were  built  as  early  as  the  thir- 
teenth century.  It  stands  in  a  magnificent  park  of  fif- 

189 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

teen  hundred  acres,  about  two  ttiirds  of  which  is  set 
apart  for  the  accommodation  of  deer  and  wild  cattle. 
The  latter,  almost  the  only  descendants  of  the  herds  of 
savage  wild  cattle  which  once  roamed  the  Caledonian 
forests,  are  famous  throughout  England  and  Scotland. 
Sir  Walter  refers  to  them  in  the  '  Bride  of  Lammermoor ' 
and  again  in  a  note  to  'Castle  Dangerous.'  The  present 
castle  is  a  large  square  structure  enclosing  the  walls  of 
the  older  building.  Entering  the  inner  court,  which  is 
paved  with  stone,  we  came  to  what  was  once  the  front 
of  the  ancient  structure,  looking  something  like  'the 
inside  of  a  convent  or  of  one  of  the  older  and  less  splen- 
did colleges  of  Oxford,'  to  quote  from  the  description  of 
Osbaldistone  Hall.  We  were  shown  a  large  banqueting- 
room,  now  used  as  a  library,  which  extends  across  the 
entire  width  of  the  building.  Its  walls  were  decorated, 
after  the  fashion  of  Osbaldistone,  with  many  trophies  of 
the  chase,  such  as  the  heads  of  deer,  elk,  buffalo,  and 
other  animals,  all  shot  by  the  present  earl.  But  in  this 
splendid  apartment  with  its  luxurious  furnishings,  there 
was  Uttle  else  to  suggest  the  dingy  old  hall,  with  its 
stone  floor  and  massive  range  of  oaken  tables,  where 
the  bluff  old  Sir  Hildebrand  and  '  the  happy  compoxmd 
of  sot,  gamekeeper,  bully,  horse- jockey,  and  fool,'  which, 
with  the  addition  of  a  highly  educated  villain,  consti- 
tuted his  family,  daily  consumed  huge  quantities  of 
meat  and  '  cups,  flagons,  bottles,  yea,  barrels  of  liquor.' 

Frank  Osbaldistone  had  nearly  reached  the  entrance 
to  his  xmcle's  house  when  he  met  the  beautiful  Diana 
Vernon.  Miss  Cranstoun,  afterwards  the  Countess  of 
Purgstall,  one  of  Scott's  early  friends  in  the  social  circles 
of  Edinburgh,  was  thought  by  many  to  be  the  original 

190 


ROB  ROY 

of  Diana,  —  a  belief  which  she  herself  shared,  chiefly 
because  she  was  an  expert  horsewoman.  Others  have 
said  that  Scott's  first  love  was  the  real  Diana.  But  Miss 
Vernon  is  totally  unlike  either  Margaret  of  Branksome 
or  Matilda  of  Rokeby,  both  of  whom  were,  to  some 
extent,  portraits  of  Miss  Williamina  Stuart.  Moreover, 
in  the  unexpected  meeting  of  a  charming  young  woman 
on  horseback,  her  long  black  hair  streaming  in  the 
breeze,  her  animated  face  glowing  with  the  exercise, 
and  her  costume  attractively  arranged  in  the  most 
striking  fashion,  there  is  a  strong  suggestion  of  the  cir- 
cumstances to  which  I  have  previously  referred,^  imder 
which  the  poet  first  met  the  future  Lady  Scott. 

The  next  day  after  our  visit  to  Chillingham  we  fol- 
lowed the  footsteps  of  Frank  Osbaldistone  to  Glasgow, 
where  we  soon  found  the  cathedral  to  which  Frank  was 
conducted  by  Andrew  Fairservice.  It  well  justifies  the 
old  gardener's  encomium:  *Ah!  it's  a  brave  kirk  — 
none  o'  yere  whigmaleeries  and  curliewurlies  and  open 
steek  hems  about  it!  —  a'  solid,  weel- jointed  mason- 
wark,  that  will  stand  as  lang  as  the  warld,  keep  hands 
and  gunpowther  aff  it.'  A  part  of  the  present  building 
was  erected  in  1175.  It  has  been  the  scene  of  some 
important  events  in  Scottish  history.  At  Christmas  of 
1301,  Edward  I  of  England,  on  his  campaign  against 
Scotland,  made  offerings  at  the  high  altar.  Five  years 
later,  Robert  Bruce  stood  before  the  same  altar  and  was 
there  absolved  for  the  murder  of  his  rival,  the  Red 
Comyn,  at  Dumfries. 

The  cathedral  is  supported  by  sixty-five  pillars,  some 
of  them  eighteen  feet  in  circumference.  The  effect  of 

*  Chapter  i,  page  17. 
191  _ 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

these  huge  masses  is  to  throw  the  crypt  into  almost  total 
darkness  except  in  the  parts  near  the  narrow  stained- 
glass  windows.  To  make  my  photograph  I  set  up  the 
camera,  opened  the  shutter,  and  left  a  workman  to  keep 
watch  while  I  went  to  luncheon.  Returning  in  an  hour 
I  shut  off  the  exposure  and  realized  later  that  two  hours 
would  have  been  better. 

In  this  dark  crypt  it  was  formerly  the  custom  to  hold 
services.  While  standing  in  front  of  one  of  the  huge  pil- 
lars, listening  to  the  sermon,  Frank  Osbaldistone  heard 
the  mysterious  voice  of  Rob  Roy,  warning  him  that  his 
life  was  in  danger.  Turning  quickly  he  could  see  no  one. 
I  could  never  imderstand  this  scene  until  I  saw  the 
crypt.  The  large  size  of  the  pillars  and  the  dense  shad- 
ows which  they  cast  would  make  it  easy  for  one  to  dis- 
appear in  the  darkness  as  Rob  Roy  was  supposed  to  do. 

On  High  Street,  Glasgow,  we  found  an  old  tower, 
which  was  a  part  of  the  Tolbooth,  where  Rob  Roy  had 
his  curious  interview  with  Bailie  Nicol  Jarvie.  The  old 
Salt  Market  has  changed  greatly  since  the  days  of  the 
good  Bailie  and  his  father,  the  deacon,  and  it  is  no 
longer  necessary  at  night  to  be  escorted  along  the  city 
streets  by  a  yoxmg  maidservant  with  a  lantern. 

Rob  Roy's  parting  injunction  to  Frank  was  'forget 
not  the  clachan  of  Aberfoyle.'  We  therefore  made  it  our 
business  to  find  that  interesting  spot,  combining  it,  as 
did  Scott,  with  our  investigation  of  the  scenery  of '  The 
Lady  of  the  Lake.'  The  portion  of  the  Scottish  High- 
lands generally  included  in  the  so-called  Rob  Roy  coun- 
try comprises  all  that  part  of  central  Perthshire  from 
Loch  Ard  and  the  river  Forth  on  the  south  to  Strath 
Fillan  and  Glen  Dochart  on  the  north,  and  from  Loch 

192 


ROB  ROY 

Lubnaig  on  the  east  to  Loch  Lomond  on  the  west.  Tliis 
region,  so  easily  accessible  to  us  by  means  of  carriages 
and  automobiles,  was  in  the  time  of  Rob  Roy  not  only 
difficult  to  approach,  but  exceedingly  dangerous.  The 
only  highways  of  travel  were  narrow  defiles  through  the 
mountains,  easy  enough,  perhaps,  for  the  experienced 
and  hardy  clansman,  who  knew  every  twist  and  turn  of 
the  paths,  but  as  impassable  to  the  unguided  Lowlander 
or  *  Sassenach '  as  the  tablelands  of  Tibet. 

Frank  Osbaldistone  and  Bailie  Nicol  Jarvie,  guided 
by  the  officious  and  rascally,  but  always  laughable, 
Andrew  Fairservice,  are  supposed  to  enter  the  hamlet 
of  Aberfoyle  by  crossing  an  old  stone  bridge  over  the 
Forth.  It  is  the  bridge  which  Scott  doubtless  crossed 
when  he  visited  the  place,  and  is  still  standing,  but  it 
had  not  been  built  in  the  time  of  Rob  Roy.  That,  how- 
ever, was  one  of  those  details  which  never  interested  Sir 
Walter  to  any  great  extent. 

We  approached  from  the  opposite  direction,  driving 
over  the  hills  from  the  Trossachs  and  pausing  just  above 
the  village  to  view  the  splendid  valley  to  the  westward, 
the  termination  of  which  was  the  mountain  peak  of  Ben 
Lomond.  Arriving  at  Aberfoyle,  we  were  fortunately 
spared  the  necessity  of  stopping  at  an  inn  such  as  the 
novelist  describes,  where  the  worthy  Bailie  valiantly 
defended  himself  against  a  too  aggressive  Highlander, 
by  wielding  a  red-hot  poker  so  vigorously  as  to  burn  a 
hole  in  his  opponent's  plaid.  But  the  enterprising  land- 
lord of  the  modern  hotel  near  the  bridge  capitalizes  the 
incident  by  exhibiting  the  identical  poker,  which  he  has 
attached  to  the  limb  of  a  tree,  thereby  recalling  Scott's 
story  of  the  keeper  of  a  museum  who  showed  the  very 

193 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

sword  with  which  Balaam  was  about  to  kill  his  ass.  A 
visitor  interrupted  him  with  the  remark  that  Balaam 
did  not  possess  a  sword;  he  only  wished  for  one.  'True, 
sir,'  was  the  ready  reply,  'but  this  is  the  very  sword  he 
wished  for.' 

There  are  two  groups  of  old  cottages  in  Aberfoyle, 
corresponding  closely  with  those  described  in  the  novel. 

The  miserable  little  bourocks  (or  heap  of  rocks)  as  the 
Bailie  termed  them,  of  which  about  a  dozen  formed  the 
village  called  the  clachan  of  Aberfoyle,  were  composed  of 
loose  stones,  cemented  by  clay  instead  of  mortar,  and 
thatched  by  tufts,  laid  rudely  upon  rafters  formed  of  native 
and  unhewn  birches  and  oaks  from  the  woods  around.  The 
roofs  approached  the  ground  so  nearly,  that  Andrew  Fair- 
service  observed,  we  might  have  ridden  over  the  village  the 
night  before,  and  never  found  out  we  were  near  it,  imless  our 
horses'  feet  had  *gane  through  the  riggin'.' 

About  half  a  mile  from  the  bridge,  which  is  the  exact 
distance  referred  to  in  the  novel,  we  found  the  largest 
of  these  clachans,  which  bore  a  very  striking  resem- 
blance to  the  one  described  by  Scott,  even  to  the 
squalor  of  its  surroimdings,  for  it  is  still  inhabited  at  one 
end,  though  the  other  is  in  ruins.  But  by  way  of  com- 
pensation, the  miserable  hovel,  with  the  high  bleak  hills 
in  the  background,  made  a  strikingly  picturesque  view, 
not  differing  greatly  from  that  which  met  the  eyes  of 
Rob  Roy  himself,  whenever  his  'business'  brought  him 
to  that  locality. 

Following  the  road  to  the  westward,  we  came  to  some 
cliffs  on  the  north  shore  of  Loch  Ard,  near  the  foot  of 
the  lake,  which  are  pointed  out  as  the  place  where  Bailie 
Nicol  Jarvie  foimd  himself  suspended  by  the  coat-tails 

194 


ROB  ROY 

from  the  projecting  branches  of  a  thorn-tree,  dangling 
in  mid-air  'not  unlike  the  sign  of  the  Golden  Fleece 
over  the  door  of  a  mercer  in  the  Trongate  of  his  native 
city.' 

The  beauty  of  the  lake  as  it  appears  from  this  road, 
and  particularly  from  the  point  where  Ben  Lomond 
looms  high  in  the  distance,  fully  justifies  the  novehst's 
enthusiasm.  The  'huge  grey  rocks  and  shaggy  banks' 
are  neither  so  high  nor  so  wild  as  they  are  described, 
nor  did  we  find  an  elevation  from  which  Helen  Mac- 
Gregor  might  have  pitched  the  miserable  Morris  head- 
long into  the  lake.  Indeed,  had  we  been  able  to  look 
backward  through  the  mists  of  two  centuries  and  see 
the  famous  Helen  herself,  we  should  doubtless  have  dis- 
covered that  she,  too,  was  much  less  'wild'  than  she  has 
been  painted.  Scott  represents  her  as  a  virago,  fiercely 
inspiring  her  husband  and  sons  to  deeds  of  bloody  ven- 
geance. The  real  name  of  Rob  Roy's  wife  was  Mary. 
Mr.  A.  H.  Miller,  in  his  'History  of  Rob  Roy,'  thinks 
she  has  been  sadly  misrepresented.  'Mary  MacGregor,' 
says  he,  'was  of  a  gentle  and  amiable  disposition,  one 
who  never  meddled  in  the  political  schemes  of  her 
husband,  and  whose  virtues  were  of  the  domestic  order.' 

Scott's  fondness  for  the  little  waterfall  of  Lediard, 
north  of  Loch  Ard,  to  which  I  have  already  referred  in 
connection  with  'Waverley,'  led  him  to  introduce  it 
again  in  'Rob  Roy.'  It  was  the  place  chosen  by  Rob's 
wife  and  followers  as  'a  scene  well  calculated  to  impress 
strangers  with  some  feelings  of  awe,'  and  here  Helen 
MacGregor  presented  to  Frank  Osbaldistone  the  ring  of 
Diana  Vernon  as  the  love-token  of  one  from  whom  he 
believed  himself  separated  forever. 

195 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

The  two  sections  of  the  Rob  Roy  country  which  the 
cateran  most  frequented,  were  the  eastern  shores  of 
Loch  Lomond  and  the  valley  where  Loch  Voil  nestles 
calmly  among  the  hills,  known  as  the  Braes  of  Bal- 
quhidder.  After  Rob  was  driven  away  from  Craig- 
royston,  on  the  margin  of  Loch  Lomond,  he  made  his 
headquarters  for  many  years  at  Fort  Inversnaid,  on  the 
high  land,  about  two  miles  east  of  the  lake. 

The  story  of  how  Rob  Roy  took  possession  of  this 
place  stamps  him  as  a  modem  Ulysses  as  well  as  a  Robin 
Hood.  The  Government  authorized  the  building  of  the 
fort  on  Rob's  own  land,  as  a  means  of  guarding  the  dis- 
trict from  his  depredations.  The  crafty  cateran,  learn- 
ing from  some  of  his  numerous  spies  all  about  the  plans 
well  in  advance,  took  good  care  to  see  that  none  of  his 
clansmen  interfered  in  the  least,  so  that  all  the  material 
for  the  fort,  including  ample  supplies,  guns,  and  ammu- 
nition, were  brought  up  without  molestation.  The  con- 
tractor, happy  in  the  thought  that  the  peaceful  state  of 
the  country  had  enabled  him  to  complete  his  task 
promptly,  dismissed  most  of  his  men  and  prepared  to 
turn  the  property  over  to  the  Duke  of  Montrose.  One 
evening,  in  the  midst  of  a  heavy  snowstorm,  a  knocking 
was  heard  at  the  gate.  In  response  to  inquiry,  a  voice 
said  that  a  poor  pedlar  had  lost  his  way  in  the  snow. 
The  gate  was  opened,  and  Rob  Roy  at  the  head  of  a 
strong  force,  rushed  in  and  took  possession.  The  fort 
made  an  excellent  vantage-ground  from  which  he  har- 
ried his  enemies  for  many  years. ' 

Just  below  the  fort,  the  little  river  which  forms  the 
outlet  of  Loch  Arklet  joins  the  Snaid,  and  finally  tum- 
bles over  the  cliff  in  a  beautiful  little  cascade,  known  as 

196 


ROB  ROY 

Inversnaid  Falls.  About  two  miles  to  the  north,  well 
hidden  among  the  rocks,  is  a  cave  which  Rob  Roy  was 
sometimes  compelled  to  use  as  a  hiding-place.  It  was 
visited  by  Walter  Scott  and  introduced  in  the  story  of 
'Waverley'  as  the  cave  of  Donald  Bean  Lean,  but  he 
refrained  from  mentioning  it  in  'Rob  Roy.' 

Scott  never  felt  quite  satisfied  with  this  novel, 
although  he  did  remark  in  a  letter  to  John  Richardson, 
*I  really  think  I  may  so  far  do  some  good  by  giving 
striking  and,  to  the  best  of  my  information  and  abilities, 
correct  likenesses  of  characters  long  since  passed  away.' 
As  a  presentation  of  the  real  character  of  one  of  the 
most  picturesque  and  interesting  of  all  Highlanders,  as 
well  as  a  superb  word-painting  of  the  conditions  imder 
which  men  lived  in  the  country  and  the  time  of  Rob 
Roy,  the  novel  possesses  a  genuine  value.  Scott's  dis- 
content with  it  arose  from  the  hard  conditions  under 
which  it  was  written.  In  a  letter  to  Daniel  Terry,  dated 
March  29,  1817,  he  says,  referring  to  it,  'I  have  made 
some  progress  in  ye  ken  what,  but  not  to  my  satisfac- 
tion; it  smeUs  of  the  cramp,  and  I  must  get  it  into  bet- 
ter order  before  sending  it  to  you.'  After  the  book  was 
published,  he  used  the  same  expression  in  a  letter  to 
Morritt.  Lady  Louisa  Stuart,  one  of  Scott's  most  valued 
friends,  who  wrote  to  him  with  perfect  freedom,  thought 
the  end  of  the  story  indicated  that  the  author  was  '  tired, 
and  wanted  to  get  rid  of  his  personages  as  fast  as  he 
could,  knocking  them  on  the  head  without  mercy.' 
There  is  certainly  some  justification  in  this  when  we 
consider  that  the  old  Baronet  and  five  of  his  worthless 
sons  are  disposed  of  within  three  or  four  pages,  while  the 
last  and  worst  of  the  lot,  the  traitorous  Rashleigh,  is  put 

197 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

out  of  the  way  two  chapters  later.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  Squire  and  his  family  were  always  treated  collect- 
ively, and  as  they  were  in  the  way  it  was  just  as  well  to 
get  rid  of  them  by  wholesale.  Of  course,  no  good  could 
come  from  letting  the  villain  Uve.  If  this  is  a  defect,  or 
if  there  are  any  other  faults  in  the  novel,  they  are  all 
redeemed  by  the  happy  pictxire  of  Bailie  Nicol  Jarvie, 
one  of  the  most  original  as  well  as  delightful  of  all  the 
company  of  actors  in  the  Waverley  Novels,  — '  a  carefu' 
man,  as  is  weel  kend,  and  industrious  as  the  hale  town 
can  testify;  and  I  can  win  my  crowns,  and  keep  my 
crowns,  and  coimt  my  crowns  wi'  ony  body  in  the  Saut- 
Market,  or  it  may  be  in  the  Gallowgate.  And  I  'm  a 
prudent  man,  as  my  father  the  deacon  was  before  me.' 
The  poor  bailie  never  could  (and  neither  can  the  reader) 
forget  how  he  must  have  looked  when  he  hung  head 
down  from  the  thorn  tree  in  the  Pass  of  Aberfoyle: 
'And  abime  a',  though  I  am  a  decent,  sponsible  man, 
when  I  am  on  my  right  end,  I  canna  but  think  I  maun 
hae  made  a  queer  figure  without  my  hat  and  my  peri- 
wig, hinging  by  the  middle  like  bawdrons,  or  a  cloak 
flung  over  a  cloak-pin.  Bailie  Graham  wad  hae  an  imco 
hair  in  my  neck  and  he  got  that  tale  by  the  end.' 

Charles  Mackay,  the  famous  actor,  made  the  hit  of 
his  career  in  his  rendition  of  Bailie  Nicol  Jarvie,  and  the 
dramatization  of  the  novel  enjoyed  a  remarkable  popu- 
larity for  many  years. 


CHAPTER    XIV 

THE  HEART   OF  MIDLOTHIAN 

'Dis-is-de-heart-of-Midlothian-Jeanie-Deans-walked-t'- 
Lunnon-t'-save-her-sister-fr'm-hangin!'  This  sentence, 
uttered  rapidly  in  a  monotone,  as  though  it  were  all  a 
single  word,  long-drawn-out,  startled  us  as  we  were 
standing  in  Parliament  Square,  Edinburgh,  looking  up 
at  the  stately  crown  which  forms  the  distinguishing 
mark  of  the  old  Cathedral  of  St.  Giles.  Our  eyes  quickly 
dropped,  to  meet  the  wistful,  upturned  face  of  a  small 
urchin,  very  ragged  and  very  dirty.  'What  is  that  you 
say? '  said  I,  looking  down  into  his  expectant  eyes.  '  Dis- 
is-de-heart-of-Midlothian-Jeanie-Deans-walked-to-Lun- 
non,  sir, '  was  the  reply,  in  the  same  quick  accents,  run- 
ning the  words  all  together.  'Why  did  she  do  that?'  I 
asked,  hoping  to  draw  him  out.  'To  save  her  sister  from 
hangin',  sir, '  was  the  ready  reply.  '  But  who  was  Jeanie 
Deans  and  how  did  she  save  her  sister? '  To  this  double 
inquiry  the  boy  only  shook  his  head.  'Where  did  you 
hear  that  story? '  Another  shake.  '  Did  you  ever  hear  of 
Sir  Walter  Scott? '  Another  slow  movement  of  a  down- 
cast head  indicated  that  the  little  lad  was  hopelessly  out 
of  his  depth,  so  I  gave  him  his  penny  and  let  him  go.  He 
had  evidently  learned  his  lesson  by  heart  from  some  one 
whom  instinct  had  taught  that  this  reference  to  one  of 
the  most  popular  novels  of  Edinburgh's  most  famous 
citizen  would  be  likely  to  prove  the  readiest  means  of 
interesting  the  casual  tourist  and  thereby  extracting  an 

199 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

honest  penny.  All  the  other  objects  of  interest,  —  the 
fine  old  Cathedral,  the  ParUament  House,  the  Market 
Cross,  the  grave  of  John  Knox  —  were  as  nothing  com- 
pared to  the  figure  of  a  heart,  outlined  in  the  pavement, 
designed  to  mark  the  site  of  the  old  Tolbooth,  but  more 
strongly  reminding  the  visitor,  not  of  an  ancient  prison, 
but  of  a  great  novel,  and  impressing  him  with  the  feeling 
that,  wherever  one  may  go  in  Edinburgh,  the  spirit  of  Sir 
Walter  Scott  seems  to  permeate  the  very  atmosphere. 

The  square  in  which  we  were  standing  was  for  cen- 
turies the  civic  centre  of  Edinburgh.  The  southwest 
comer  is  occupied  by  the  House  of  Parliament,  where 
the  Scottish  Parliaments  met  in  a  room,  a  hxmdred  and 
twenty-two  feet  long  and  forty-nine  feet  wide,  with  an 
arched  oaken  roof.  This  large  hall  is  now  adorned  with 
numerous  portraits  and  statues  of  eminent  judges,  and 
its  floor,  when  the  courts  are  in  session,  is  filled  with  a 
throng  of  advocates,  their  wigs  and  gowns  suggesting 
something  of  the  ceremonials  of  olden  times.  Since  the 
union  of  England  and  Scotland  imder  the  name  of  Great 
Britain,  in  1707,  and  the  consequent  dissolution  of  the 
Scottish  Parliament,  the  building  has  been  used  by  the 
Court  of  Session.  In  the  rooms  of  the  First  Division, 
on  the  left  of  the  lobby,  Sir  Walter  Scott,  as  one  of  the 
Principal  Clerks,  performed  his  oflScial  duties  for  twenty- 
five  years.  His  attendance  averaged  from  four  to  six 
hours  daily  during  the  sessions  of  the  court,  which  usu- 
ally occupied  two  months  in  the  late  spring  and  early 
simimer,  and  four  in  the  winter.  His  letter  of  resigna- 
tion, in  the  last  year  but  one  of  his  life,  is  one  of  the 
valued  treasures  of  the  Advocates'  Library. 

In  the  first  half  of  the  eighteenth  century,  the  period 

200 


THE  HEART  OF  MK^LOTHIAN 

of '  The  Heart  of  Midlothian/  Parliament  Close,  as  it  was 
then  called,  did  not  present  the  clean,  open  appearance 
of  to-day.  Almost  the  entire  space  between  St.  Giles  on 
the  east  and  the  County  Hall  on  the  west  was  occupied 
by  the  Tolbooth,  leaving  only  a  narrow  and  partly  cov- 
ered passage  at  the  northwest  corner  of  the  square.  The 
prison  projected  into  the  middle  of  High  Street,  seeming 
to  form  'the  termination  of  a  huge  pile  of  buildings 
called  the  Luckenbooths,'  which  had  been  'jammed 
into  the  midst  of  the  principal  street,'  and  little  booths 
or  shops  were  plastered  against  the  buttresses  of  the 
old  Gothic  cathedral.  The  headquarters  of  the  'City 
Guard'  were  in  'a  long,  low,  ugly  building,  which  to  a 
fanciful  imagination  might  have  suggested  the  idea  of 
a  long  black  snail  crawling  up  the  middle  of  the  High 
Street  and  deforming  its  beautiful  esplanade.'  In  this 
way,  what  was  intended  to  be  and  is  now  a  broad  street- 
was  at  that  time  so  encumbered  as  to  be  converted  into 
a  series  of  narrow,  crooked  lanes,  which  were  kept  in 
anything  but  tidy  condition.  South  of  High  Street  the 
Cowgate  was  reached  by  descending  the  steep  incline 
through  various  narrow  lanes,  and  the  two  parallel 
thoroughfares  were  connected,  a  Uttle  to  the  east,  by  a 
crooked  but  famous  street,  called  West  Bow.  At  the 
foot  of  the  latter  was  a  wide,  open  space  known  as  the 
Grassmarket,  where  the  public  executions  took  place. 
These  were  the  streets  through  which  the  rioters  of  the 
Porteous  Mob  made  their  way  in  the  exciting  days  of 
September,  1736. 

The  Tolbooth,  considered  two  centuries  ago  to  be  one 
of  the  largest  and  most  sombre  buildings  in  the  kingdom, 
was  built  by  the  citizens  of  Edinburgh  in  1561,  origi- 

201 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

nally  for  a  Town  Hall,  but  later  devoted  to  the  use  of 
Parliament  and  the  courts  of  justice.  With  the  comple- 
tion of  the  Parliament  House  in  1640,  its  original  usage 
ceased,  and  from  that  time  until  its  demoHtion  in  181 7, 
it  was  devoted  exclusively  to  the  imprisonment  of  debt- 
ors and  criminals.  No  distinction  was  made  between  the 
lowest  of  the  criminal  classes  and  the  poor  persons  whose 
only  offence  was  the  inability  to  pay  some  small  debt. 
The  latter  were  shut  up  for  months  in  cells  too  loath- 
some for  the  most  vicious  of  criminals.  There  were  no 
areas  for  exercise  nor  any  ways  of  affording  the  captives 
a  breath  of  fresh  air.  The  narrow  windows  were  half- 
blocked  to  the  light  by  massive  bars  of  iron. 

The  exterior  was  not  less  horrible,  for  on  its  highest 
pinnacle  were  displayed  the  heads  of  prisoners  of  state 
who  had  been  executed,  and  it  was  seldom  lacking  in 
such  tokens.  The  Regent  Morton,  accused  of  the  murder 
of  Damley;  the  Duke  of  Montrose,  and  later  his  great 
enemy,  the  Duke  of  Argyle,  were  among  the  most  dis- 
tinguished of  these  victims;  but  there  were  many  others. 

The  Church  of  St.  Giles  almost  touched  elbows,  so  to 
speak,  with  the  prison.  The  central  portion  was  set  apart 
for  religious  services  under  the  name  of  the  'Old  Church,' 
the  worshippers  of  those  days  having  a  strong  aversion 
to  the  use  of  the  name  of  a  saint.  They  seemed  to  have 
no  objection  to  attaching  to  their  sacred  edifice  the 
designation  of  the  temporary  abode  of  sinners,  for  the 
southwest  quarter  was  called  the  'Tolbooth  Church,' 
from  its  proximity  to  the  prison.  On  the  morning  of  the 
nth  of  April,  1736,  according  to  the  account  of  Robert 
Chambers,  Wilson  and  Robertson  were  conducted  to 
the  Tolbooth  Church,  to  listen  to  their  last  sermon,  their 

303 


THE  HEART  OF  MIDLOTHIAN 

execution  having  been  planned  for  the  following  Wed- 
nesday. Very  much  as  described  in  the  novel,  except 
that  the  incident  took  place  almost  instantly  after  they 
had  seated  themselves  in  the  pew,  instead  of  after  the 
sermon  as  Scott  says,  Wilson  seized  three  of  the  guards 
and  shouted  to  Robertson  to  run.  The  latter  tripped  up 
the  fourth  soldier  and  quickly  escaped,  aided  by  the 
sympathetic  church-goers,  who  contrived  to  block  up 
the  passages  so  that  pursuit  was  impossible.  Three  days 
later,  Wilson  was  executed  in  the  Grassmarket.  The 
sympathy  of  all  Edinburgh  was  with  him,  for  several 
reasons.  First,  his  crime  was  only  the  robbery  of  a 
revenue  officer,  in  reprisal  for  the  seizure  of  his  own 
goods  on  a  charge  of  smugghng.  In  those  days  (and 
even  now,  it  may  be  feared)  the  crime  of  cheating  the 
Government  out  of  its  revenues  was  not  considered  an 
enormous  one.  If  a  poor  smuggler  happened  to  be 
caught,  there  was  no  reason  why  he  should  n't  'get 
even '  with  the  officers  if  he  had  a  good  chance.  At  least, 
so  Wilson  argued,  and  many  sympathized  with  his  view. 
Second,  the  Scots  were  not  yet  entirely  reconciled  to 
the  union,  and  the  exhibition  of  too  much  authority  at 
London  was  likely  to  be  resented.  Third,  Wilson  had 
acted  the  part  of  a  generous  friend  and  courageous  man 
in  sacrificing  his  own  chances  to  secure  the  escape  of 
Robertson. 

Some  stones  were  thrown  at  the  captain  of  the  City 
Guard,  John  Porteous,  and  that  officer,  beside  himself 
with  rage,  snatched  a  gun  from  a  soldier  and,  setting  the 
example  himself,  commanded  his  party  to  fire.  The  re- 
sult was  the  loss  of  six  lives  and  the  wounding  of  eleven 
persons,  many  of  the  victims  being  innocent  spectators 

303 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

who  were  watching  the  affair  from  neighbouring  win- 
dows. For  this  offence  Porteous  was  tried  and  convicted, 
his  execution  being  set  for  the  8th  of  September.  Before 
the  prisoner  could  be  executed,  a  pardon  reached  Edin- 
burgh, signed  by  Queen  Caroline,  acting  as  Regent. 
Robert  Chambers  says  that  it  came  on  the  2d  of  Sep- 
tember, giving  the  mob  five  days  for  preparation  instead 
of  a  single  afternoon,  as  described  by  Scott.  It  is  a  mat- 
ter of  history  that  the  'mob'  acted  with  remarkable 
moderation,  harming  no  one  except  their  intended  vic- 
tim. Ladies  of  the  upper  classes,  travelling  in  their 
chairs  to  meet  evening  engagements,  were  quietly  turned 
back.  The  shopkeeper  in  the  West  Bow,  whose  place 
was  broken  into  for  a  coil  of  rope,  found  himself  reim- 
bursed with  a  guinea.  The  town  guard  was  disarmed 
and  the  city  gates  closed  without  confusion,  showing 
that  cool  heads  were  in  the  lead.  The  jail  was  stormed 
and,  as  the  door  would  not  yield,  it  was  set  on  fire. 
When  this  finally  became  effective,  the  fire  was  extin- 
guished. All  the  prisoners  were  set  free  except  Porteous, 
who  was  taken  to  the  Grassmarket  and  hanged  on  a 
post  near  the  scene  of  his  own  crime. 

The  event  caused  great  excitement,  not  only  in  Edin- 
burgh, but  in  London.  The  House  of  Lords  proposed  a 
severe  punishment,  including  the  imprisonment  of  the 
Lord  Provost,  but  finally  compromised  with  a  fine  upon 
the  city  of  £2000  for  the  benefit  of  Porteous's  widow, 
thus  throwing  the  punishment  upon  those  who  had 
nothing  to  do  with  the  affair  and  could  not  have  pre- 
vented it. 

When  the  discreditable  old  Tolbooth  was  finally 
demoUshed,  Scott  was  presented  with  the  door  and  its 

204 


THE  HEART  OF  MIDLOTHIAN 

frame,  which  are  now  built  into  the  outer  walls  of  the 
mansion  at  Abbotsford  and  the  keys  of  the  prison  are 
among  the  treasures  of  his  museum.  In  1816,  he  wrote 
to  Terry,  *  I  expect  to  get  some  decorations  from  the  old 
Tolbooth  of  Edinburgh,  particularly  the  copestones  of 
the  doorway,  or  lintels,  as  we  call  them,  and  a  niche 
or  two  —  one  very  handsome,  indeed!  Better  a  niche 
from  the  Tolbooth  than  a  niche  in  it,  to  which  such 
building  operations  are  apt  to  bring  the  projectors ! ' 

The  first  part  of  the  novel  is  a  skilful  blending  of  the 
history  of  the  Porteous  Mob,  with  the  true  story  of  an 
unfortunate  girl  and  her  noble  sister,  who  lived  in 
another  part  of  Scotland.  The  author  represents  Effie 
Deans  as  having  been  incarcerated  in  the  old  Tolbooth 
and  places  her  trial  in  one  of  the  buildings  of  Parliament 
Close.  The  real  Effie  was  imprisoned  in  the  jail  at  Dum- 
fries and  her  trial  occurred  in  an  upper  room  of  a  curious 
old  building  of  that  city,  known  as  the  Mid-Steeple, 
a  structure,  now  over  two  centuries  old,  which  stands  in 
the  middle  of  the  High  Street  and  gives  a  picturesque 
effect  to  that  thoroughfare.  On  the  south  front,  above 
a  stairway  which  ascends  across  the  face  of  the  building, 
is  a  sculptured  figure  of  St.  Michael  treading  on  a  ser- 
pent, the  arms  of  the  burgh,  and  above  this  are  the 
royal  arms  of  Scotland,  also  carved  in  stone.  The  space 
in  front  is  given  a  pleasant  bit  of  colour  by  the  display 
of  flowers  and  vegetables,  here  offered  for  sale. 

The  story  of  Helen  Walker,  the  original  of  Jeanie 
Deans,  is  well  remembered  in  Dumfries.  A  stone  or  two 
may  still  be  discovered,  by  those  who  care  to  search  for 
the  remnant  of  her  little  cottage,  near  the  banks  of  the 
river  Cluden.  She  lived  to  be  seventy  or  eighty  years 

205 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

old,  supporting  herself  by  working  stocking-feet  and 
raising  chickens,  besides  occasionally  teaching  a  few  chil- 
dren to  read.  In  early  life  she  had  been  left  an  orphan, 
charged  with  the  support  of  a  younger  sister,  named 
Isabella,  or  'Tibby,'  to  whom  she  devoted  herself  with 
many  evidences  of  genuine  affection.  It  was  a  great 
shock  to  her,  therefore,  when  she  learned  that  the  young 
girl  had  been  accused  of  child-murder  and  that  she  her- 
self would  be  called  upon  as  the  principal  witness  against 
her.  Under  the  law,  as  her  counsel  explained,  if  she 
could  testify  that  her  sister  had  made  the  slightest  pre- 
paration or  had  even  confided  to  her  an  intimation  on 
the  subject,  such  a  declaration  would  save  her  sister's 
life.  The  temptation  to  tell  a  plausible  lie,  which  no  one 
could  dispute,  was  undeniably  strong.  But  Helen  was  a 
woman  of  finer  moidd,  and  not  even  the  purest  sisterly 
love  could  induce  her  to  violate  her  conscience.  She 
swore  to  the  truth  and  Isabella  was  condemned.  As  she 
left  the  court,  the  latter  was  heard  to  exclaim,  'Oh, 
Nelly!  ye've  been  the  cause  of  my  death!' 

The  same  moral  courage  which  gave  resolution  to 
Helen  Walker  to  stand  for  the  truth,  now  impelled  her 
to  a  remarkable  exercise  of  the  power  of  an  indomitable 
will.  The  difficulties  seemed  insurmountable.  There  was 
no  hope  except  in  the  royal  pardon.  There  was  no  one 
to  intercede  with  the  King  and  London  was  many  miles 
away.  But  Helen  did  not  waste  a  moment.  A  petition 
was  hastily  drawn,  setting  forth  the  facts  in  the  case,  and 
on  the  very  night  of  the  conviction,  the  dauntless  Scotch 
lassie  set  out  on  foot  for  London,  clad  in  her  simple 
country  dress  and  tartan  plaid,  without  letters  of  intro- 
duction or  recommendation,  with  little  money  in  her 

206 


THE  HEART  OF  MIDLOTHIAN 

purse,  and  scarcely  a  chance  of  success  except  a  sublime 
faith  in  Providence  and  reliance  upon  her  own  stout 
heart. 

There  was  one  nobleman  in  London  to  whom  the 
heart  of  any  of  his  Scotch  countrymen  would  instinc- 
tively turn  in  such  an  emergency.  This  was  John,  Duke 
of  Argyle,  who  had  stoutly  resisted  the  efforts  to  inflict 
an  undeserved  pimishment  on  the  people  of  Edinburgh 
for  their  part  in  the  Porteous  affair.  To  him  Helen 
Walker  presented  herself,  after  watching  three  days  at 
his  door,  just  as  he  was  about  to  enter  his  carriage.  Her 
impretentious  dress,  her  honest  face,  and  the  pathos  of 
her  story  won  the  heart  of  the  generous  nobleman,  who 
procured  the  pardon  and  forwarded  it  to  Dumfries. 
Helen  returned  on  foot  as  she  had  come,  and  had 
the  satisfaction  of  witnessing  the  release  of  her  sister. 
Isabella  married  the  man  who  had  wronged  her  and 
lived  many  years,  always  acknowledging  in  the  most 
affectionate  terms  the  high  nobility  of  her  sister's 
character. 

Helen  died  in  poverty  and  was  buried  in  the  pictur- 
esque churchyard  of  Kirkpatrick  Irongray,  northwest  of 
Dumfries,  where  her  grave  might  have  been  forgotten 
but  for  the  generosity  of  Sir  Walter  and  the  interest  of 
Mrs.  Goldie,  who  told  him  the  story.  This  good  lady 
requested  the  novelist  to  write  an  inscription,  saying 
that  if  he  would  do  so,  she  would  be  able  to  raise  the  ne- 
cessary funds  for  a  monument.  Scott,  however,  insisted 
upon  supplying  both  the  inscription  and  the  stone.  We 
made  it  our  first  care  on  the  afternoon  of  our  arrival 
in  Dumfries  to  drive  to  the  old  Kirk  where,  in  spite  of 
the  inconvenience  of  an  unexpected  shower,  we  photo- 

S07 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

graphed  the  memorial  and  afterwards  stood  under  an 
umbrella  copying  the  following  inscription:  — 

This  Stone  was  erected 

By  the  author  of  Waverley 

To  the  memory 

of 

HELEN  WALKER 

.  Who  died  in  the  year  of  God,  1791. 

This  humble  individual 

Practised  in  real  life 

The  virtues 

With  which  fiction  has  invested 

The  imaginary  character  of 

JEANIE  DEANS 

Refusing  the  slightest  departure 

From  veracity 

Even  to  save  the  life  of  a  sister, 

She  nevertheless  shewed  her 

Blindness  and  fortitude 

In  rescuing  her 

From  the  severity  of  the  law, 

At  the  Expense  of  personal  exertions. 

Which  the  times  rendered  as  difficult  . 

As  the  motive  was  laudable. 


Respect  the  grave  of  poverty 

When  combined  with  love  of  truth 

And  dear  affection. 

One  day  during  our  stay  in  Edinburgh  we  hired  a  con- 
veyance to  take  us  to  the  suburban  scenes  of  'The  Heart 
of  Midlothian.'   Our  driver  was  recommended  as  'one 

208 


THE  HEART  OF  MIDLOTHIAN 

of  the  best  guides  in  Edinburgh,'  and  so  he  proved  to  be. 
In  spite  of  orders  to  drive  direct  to  the  King's  Park,  he 
insisted  upon  going  by  way  of  High  Street  and  the 
Canongate,  when,  every  few  rods  it  seemed,  he  would 
bring  his  horse  to  a  walk,  then  turn  in  his  seat  until  he 
faced  us  and  point  with  his  long  whip  to  some  window 
'where  the  famous  Adam  Smith  lived '  or  'where  Dugald 
Stewart  had  his  rooms.'  Perhaps  he  was  only  following 
the  example  of  Sir  Walter,  of  whom  Lockhart  said,  '  No 
funeral  hearse  crept  more  leisurely  than  did  his  landau 
up  the  Canongate;  and  not  a  queer  tottering  gable  but 
recalled  to  him  some  long-buried  memory  of  splendour 
or  bloodshed,  which,  by  a  few  words,  he  set  before  his 
hearers  in  the  reality  of  life.'  All  of  this  was  interesting 
enough,  or  would  have  been,  had  I  not  wished  to  reach 
my  objective  point  before  sundown,  but  Jehu  was  like 
the  burro  I  once  rode  in  the  Garden  of  the  Gods  in  Col- 
orado, which  beast  responded  to  the  spur  by  two  con- 
vulsive steps,  then  settled  down  to  his  previous  pace, 
which  neither  coaxing  nor  threatening,  caressing  nor 
spurring,  soft  words  nor  sharp  ones,  would  induce  him 
to  change  for  the  space  of  more  than  a  minute  at  a  time. 
So  with  our  'best  guide.'  I  finally  concluded  to  let  him 
have  his  own  way,  as  I  had  been  obliged  to  do  with  his 
obstinate  relative,  the  burro,  and  so  finally  got  through 
the  Canongate  after  listening  to  a  rehearsal  of  the  entire 
catalogue  of  Edinburgh  worthies  for  several  centuries. 
When  the  King's  Park  was  reached,  after  passing  Holy- 
rood  Palace,  the  guide  found  himself  'out  of  bounds' 
and  kindly  permitted  me  to  direct  the  further  proceed- 
ings, 
i.  Here  the  city  seems  to  come  to  a  sudden  end,  and  look- 

309 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

ing  toward  the  southwest  we  saw  only  a  mass  of  steep 
cMs  backed  by  a  rugged  mountain.  This  was  a  favor- 
ite resort  with  Sir  Walter,  when  a  boy.  In  later  years, 
the  Radical  Road,  which  winds  aroimd  the  edge  of  the 
Salisbury  Crags  in  a  broad  pathway,  was  laid  out  at  his 
suggestion,  to  give  emplojnnent  to  idle  men. 

In  writing  *  The  Heart  of  Midlothian,'  Scott  was  there- 
fore more  at  home  than  with  any  other  of  his  novels. 
Muschat's  Cairn  and  St.  Anthony's  Chapel,  where 
Jeanie  had  her  midnight  interview  with  the  betrayer  of 
her  sister,  were  famiUar  sights  of  the  author's  boyhood. 
On  a  dark  night  they  would  be  lonely  enough  even  now. 

Near  the  park  gate  we  passed  some  boulders  known  as 
Muschat's  Cairn,  but  as  they  were  carefully  enclosed 
and  surroimded  by  a  well-kept  plot  of  grass,  they  gave 
no  suggestion  of  the  weird  and  desecrated  ground  where 
evil  spirits  had  power  to  make  themselves  visible  to 
human  eyes.  The  original  cairn  was  made  by  passing 
travellers,  each  throwing  a  stone  upon  the  spot,  to 
express  his  detestation  of  the  horrible  murder  com- 
mitted in  1720  by  Nicol  Muchet  or  Muschat,  who  kiUed 
his  wife  under  circumstances  of  great  cruelty.  In  the 
ordinary  course  of  improvements,  the  cairn  was  swept 
away,  but  the  novel  created  a  new  interest  in  its  story, 
which  led  to  its  restoration. 

St.  Anthony's  Chapel,  on  the  rugged  hillside  overlook- 
ing St.  Margaret's  Loch,  gives  more  of  the  impression 
of  Scott's  tale.  The  scene  on  any  moonUght  night  even 
now  would  be  the  same  as  it  was  on  that  night  when 
Jeanie  met  George  Robertson  at  the  cairn  and  was  fol- 
lowed by  Ratcliffe  and  Sharpitlaw,  guided  by  Madge 
Wildfire.   The  ruined  chapel,  where  the  jailer  and  the 

210 


THE  HEART  OF  MIDLOTHIAN 

lawyer  succeeded  only  in  capturing  each  other  instead 
of  the  fugitive,  is  still  as  lonely  and  difficult  of  access 
as  it  was  then,  the  only  difference  being  that  some  of  the 
walls  have  fallen.  We  drove  as  near  to  the  base  of  the 
hill  as  it  was  possible  to  go.  I  then  left  the  carriage  and 
began  the  ascent,  stopping  a  moment  at  St.  Anthony's 
Well,  where  Madge  Wildfire  wanted  to  meet  the  ghost 
of  the  murdered  Ailie  Muschat  to  wash  the  blood  out 
of  her  clothes  'by  the  beams  of  the  bonny  Lady  Moon.' 
Arriving  at  the  chapel  after  a  hard  climb,  I  was  studying 
the  composition  of  a  picture  when  I  was  accosted  by  a 
policeman,  who  had  toiled  after  me  all  the  way  up  that 
steep  incline.  He  informed  me  that  I  was  welcome  to 
photograph  the  ruins,  but  I  must  n't  take  any  group 
pictures.  As  there  was  nobody  in  sight  but  the  police- 
man and  myself,  and  as  I  did  not  wish  to  make  a  *  group  * 
of  him,  I  wondered  why  he  had  taken  so  much  trouble. 
Perhaps  he  felt  the  proud  satisfaction  of  the  hero,  who, 
in  the  language  of  an  admiring  rustic  friend,  'seen  his 
duty  and  done  it  noble.' 

The  chapel  of  St.  Anthony,  of  which  now  only  a  frag- 
ment remains,  was  once  a  Gothic  structure,  with  a  tower 
forty  feet  high,  in  which  a  light  was  kept  for  the  guid- 
ance of  mariners.  A  hermitage,  of  which  scarcely  a  trace 
remains,  was  partly  formed  of  one  of  the  sheltering 
crags  near  by.  The  lofty  site,  commanding  an  exten- 
sive prospect  of  sea  and  sky  was  supposed  to  be  favour- 
able for  pious  meditations.  The  sight  of  the  palace 
below  was  expected  to  make  an  impression  in  the 
minds  of  the  monks  of  the  'striking  contrast  between 
the  court,  so  frequently  assaulted  by  an  unprincipled 
rabble,  and  their  own  tranquil  situation  in  which  they 

211 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

were  gladly  preparing  for  the  regions  of  everlasting 
repose.'  Although  overlooking  a  populous  city,  the  resi- 
dents of  the  hermitage  had  all  the  'advantages'  of  life  in 
a  wilderness,  as  secluded  and  peaceful  as  a  Highland 
desert. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  intervening  valley  we 
visited  St.  Leonard's  Crags  at  the  southwest  edge  of  the 
King's  Park.  A  neat  cottage,  with  a  little  garden  on 
the  slope  below,  passes  as  the  house  of  David  Deans. 
Whether  Scott  had  in  mind  this  particular  building  is 
immaterial.  It  is  in  the  exact  locality  described  in  the 
novel,  and  we  thought  it  pleasant  to  stand  on  the  side  of 
the  hill  overlooking  the  same  extensive  sheep  pasture, 
and  the  same  crags  and  mountain  beyond,  that  met  the 
eyes  of  Jeanie  Deans  when  she  stood  at  the  cottage  door 
anxiously  looking  along  the  various  tracks  which  led  to 
their  dwelling,  *  to  see  if  she  could  descry  the  nymph-like 
form  of  her  sister.' 

A  house  known  as  'Dumbiedykes,*  so  called  because 
in  Scott's  time  it  was  used  as  a  private  school  for  the 
deaf  and  dumb,  is  not  far  distant.  The  novelist  bor- 
rowed only  the  name,  which  he  seems  to  have  trans- 
ferred to  an  old  farm  called  Pefifermill,  in  the  vicinity  of 
Liberton. 

*  Douce  David  Deans'  is  an  original  creation,  the 
result  of  Scott's  absorption  of  the  descriptions  of  char- 
acter in  Patrick  Walker's  biographical  accounts  of  the 
Covenanters.  In  acknowledging  his  indebtedness  to  this 
authority,  Scott  says,  'It  is  from  such  tracts  as  these, 
written  in  the  sense,  feeling,  and  spirit  of  the  sect, 
and  not  from  the  sophisticated  narratives  of  a  later 
p>eriod,  that  the  real  character  of  the  persecuted  class  is 

212 


THE  HEART  OF  Mn)LOTHIAN 

to  be  gathered.'  'David'  is  just  a  touch  of  the  same 
kind  of  which  we  have  seen  so  much  in  'Old  Mortality/ 
His  lecture  to  his  daughters  on  the  evil  of  dancing  is 
taken  from  Patrick  Walker's  Life  of  Cameron:  — 

Dance?  —  dance,  said  ye?  I  daur  ye,  limmers  that  ye  are, 
to  name  sic'  a  word  at  my  door-cheek !  It 's  a  dissolute,  pro- 
fane pastime,  practiced  by  the  Israelites  only  at  their  base 
and  brutal  worship  of  the  Golden  Calf  at  Bethel,  and  by  the 
unhappy  lass  who  danced  off  the  head  of  John  the  Baptist, 
upon  whilk  chapter  I  will  exercise  this  night  for  your  further 
instruction,  since  ye  need  it  sae  muckle,  nothing  doubting 
that  she  has  cause  to  rue  the  day,  lang  or  this  time,  that  e'er 
she  suld  hae  shook  a  limb  on  sic'  an  errand.  Better  for  her  to 
hae  been  bom  a  cripple,  and  carried  frae  door  to  door,  like 
auld  Bessie  Bowie,  begging  bawbees,  than  to  be  a  king's 
daughter,  fiddling  and  flinging  the  gate  she  did.  .  .  .  And 
now,  if  I  hear  ye,  quean  lassies,  sae  muckle  as  name  dancing, 
or  think  there 's  sic'  a  thing  in  this  warld  as  flinging  to  fiddle's 
sounds  and  piper's  springs,  as  sure  as  my  father's  spirit  is 
with  the  just,  ye  shall  be  no  more  either  charge  or  concern  of 
mine! 

What  a  treat  it  would  be  to  hear  Douce  David  ex- 
press an  opinion  of  the  elaborate  present-day  perform- 
ances of  '  Salome ' ! 

Madge  Wildfije,  or  Murdockson,  was  drawn  from  a 
crazy  woman,  called  Feckless  Fannie,  who  travelled 
over  Scotland  and  England  at  the  head  of  a  flock  of 
sheep.  They  were  remarkable  animals,  who  recognized 
their  names  as  bestowed  by  their  mistress,  and  responded 
promptly  to  her  commands.  She  slept  in  the  fields  in 
the  midst  of  her  flock,  and  one  very  polite  old  ram, 
named  Charlie,  always  claimed  the  honour  of  assisting 
her  to  rise.  He  would  push  the  others  out  of  the  way, 

213 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

then  bend  down  his  head,  and  when  Madge  had  taken  a 
firm  grasp  upon  his  large  horns,  he  would  raise  his  head 
and  gently  lift  his  mistress  to  her  feet.  This  and  muner- 
ous  other  stories  of  Feckless  Fannie  were  furnished  the 
novelist  by  his  indefatigable  friend,  Joseph  Train. 

The  great  popularity  of  'The  Heart  of  Midlothian' 
may  be  judged  from  a  letter  of  Lady  Louisa  Stuart,  who 
said,  '  I  am  in  a  house  where  everybody  is  tearing  it  out 
of  each  other's  hands  and  talking  of  nothing  else,'  and 
from  Lockhart's  testimony,  that  he  had  never  seen  such 
'all-engrossing  enthusiasm'  in  Edinburgh  'on  the  ap- 
pearance of  any  other  literary  novelty.'  Andrew  Lang 
only  voices  the  feeling  of  other  Scotchmen  when  he 
declares  that  it  is '  second  to  none '  of  the  Waverley  Nov- 
els and  that  'no  number  of  formal  histories  can  convey 
nearly  so  full  and  true  a  picture  of  Scottish  life  about 
1730-40  as  'The  Heart  of  Midlothian.' 

Lockhart,  as  usual,  sets  forth  the  true  secret  of  the 
author's  success  and  does  it  in  a  single  paragraph. 
'Never  before,'  he  says,  'had  he  seized  such  really  noble 
features  of  the  national  character  as  were  canonized  in 
the  person  of  his  homely  heroine;  no  art  had  ever 
devised  a  happier  running  contrast  than  that  of  her 
and  her  sister,  or  interwoven  a  portraiture  of  lowly  man- 
ners and  simple  virtues,  with  more  graceful  delineations 
of  polished  life  or  with  bolder  shadows  of  terror,  guilt, 
crime,  remorse,  madness,  and  all  the  agony  of  passions. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  BRIDE  OF  LAMMERMOOR 

Ralph  Waldo  Emerson,  who  frequently  showed  his 
familiarity  with  the  Waverley  Novels,  regarded  'The 
Bride  of  Lanunermoor'  as  Scott's  highest  achievement. 
He  declared  that  it  'almost  goes  back  to  ^Eschylus  for  a 
counterpart,  as  a  painting  of  Fate  —  leaving  on  every 
reader  the  impression  of  the  highest  and  purest  tragedy.' 
The  dramatic  close  of  the  story  is  based  upon  a  calamity 
which  marred  the  private  life  of  James  Dalrymple,  the 
first  Lord  Stair,  a  great  lawyer,  legal  writer,  and  judge, 
who  was  the  ancestor  of  a  long  line  of  distinguished 
advocates,  judges,  and  public  men. 

This  gentleman  was  born  in  Ayrshire  in  1619.  He 
was  carefully  educated,  and  when  a  young  man  lectured 
in  the  University  of  Glasgow  on  mathematics,  logic, 
ethics,  and  politics.  At  twenty-nine  he  began  the  prac- 
tice of  law  at  Edinburgh,  winning  great  fame  in  his 
profession,  because  of  extensive  legal  attainments.  His 
great  work  on  'The  Institutions  of  the  Law  of  Scotland' 
is  still  held  in  high  esteem  by  Scottish  lawyers,  although 
the  feudal  law  which  it  elucidated  has  become  anti- 
quated. It  is  considered,  however,  that  something  of  its 
spirit  still  survives.  He  became  a  judge,  was  appointed 
President  of  the  Court  of  Session,  served  as  a  member 
of  the  Scottish  Parliament,  and  took  a  prominent  part 
in  various  political  and  diplomatic  undertakings.  Unfor- 
tunately incurring  the  enmity  of  the  Duke  of  York,  he 

215 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

lost  his  influence  at  court  and  was  deprived  of  office. 
Fearing  prosecution  for  treason,  he  retired  to  Holland, 
returning,  however,  a  year  later  in  the  suite  of  William 
of  Orange.  He  lived  to  the  age  of  seventy-six,  his  latest 
years  saddened  by  the  bitter  attacks  of  his  enemies. 
This  is  the  man  whom  Scott  introduces  as  Sir  William 
Ashton,  though  without  meaning  to  impute  to  Lord 
Stair  the  tricky  and  mean-spirited  qualities  of  the  ficti- 
tious character. 

James  Dalrymple  was  married  in  1644  to  Margaret 
Ross,  the  heiress  of  a  large  estate  in  Galloway.  She  was 
a  woman  of  great  ability  and  strong  character,  who 
seems  to  have  exerted  a  powerful  influence  in  promoting 
her  husband's  prosperity  and  political  ambition.  She 
shared  his  fortunes,  whether  good  or  bad,  for  nearly 
half  a  century,  always  exerting  an  imperious  will,  which 
even  he  did  not  dare  to  contradict,  but  ever  faithful 
in  advancing  his  interests.  Following  her  husband's 
downfall,  when  the  number  of  his  enemies  had  greatly 
increased  and  his  life  was  in  danger,  Lady  Stair 
was  accused  of  attending  conventicles  and  of  harbouring 
'silenced  preachers'  in  her  house.  Others  went  farther 
and  accused  her  of  witchcraft,  maintaining  that  the 
great  prosperity  of  her  family  was  attributable  solely  to 
the  lady's  partnership  with  His  Satanic  Majesty.  What- 
ever may  have  been  the  slanders  directed  against  her 
good  name,  the  Lady  Stair  of  history  was  clearly  the 
prototype  of  Lady  Ashton. 

The  lord  and  lady  of  real  h'fe  had  a  daughter  Janet, 
who  was  betrothed,  without  the  consent  of  her  parents, 
to  Lord  Rutherford.  Lady  Stair's  will  asserted  itself  in 
opposition,  and  without  consideration  of  her  daughter's 

216 


THE  BRIDE  OF  LAMMERMOOR 

feelings,  the  mother  proceeded  to  annul  the  engagement, 
notifying  the  lover  that  his  fiancee  had  retracted  her 
unlawful  vow.  After  a  stormy  interview,  in  which  Lord 
Rutherford  argued  his  case  with  the  determined  mother 
in  the  presence  of  the  yoimger  woman,  the  latter,  who 
had  feebly  remained  silent  and  motionless,  at  last 
obeyed  with  sad  reluctance  her  mother's  command  and 
gave  back  to  her  lover  the  half  of  a  broken  coin,  which 
had  been  the  symbol  of  their  mutual  pledge.  In  a  burst 
of  passion  Lord  Rutherford  left  the  room  and  soon  after 
went  abroad  never  to  return. 

The  marriage  desired  by  Lady  Stair  now  took  place, 
the  bridegroom  being  David  Dunbar,  the  heir  of  an 
estate  in  Wigtownshire,  the  lady's  native  county.  On  the 
night  of  the  wedding  some  tragic  event  took  place  which 
resulted  in  the  death  of  Janet  two  weeks  later.  Either 
the  bride  stabbed  the  husband  or  the  husband  stabbed 
the  bride.  The  family  seem  to  have  thrown  a  veil  of 
secrecy  over  the  whole  affair  and  the  exact  truth  was 
never  positively  known.  According  to  one  account, 
when  the  door  of  the  chamber  was  opened,  the  young 
bridegroom  lay  upon  the  floor  badly  wounded,  while  the 
wife  was  found  in  a  state  of  frenzy,  screaming  as  the  door 
opened,  *Tak'  up  your  bonnie  bridegroom.'  Another 
story  is  that  the  mother,  inspired  by  Satan,  attempted 
the  murder,  the  marriage  having  been  contracted  against 
her  will,  and  that  the  bridegroom  went  crazy.  A  third 
rendition  is  that  the  disappointed  lover  concealed  him- 
self in  the  apartment  and  committed  the  crime. 

Scott  adopts  the  most  plausible  view,  namely,  that 
the  young  lady,  forced  to  marry  against  her  will,  simply 
lost  her  reason  and  in  a  mad  delirium  assaulted  her 

217 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

husband.  That  young  gentleman  recovered  from  his 
wounds.  Thirteen  years  later,  he  was  killed  by  a  fall 
from  his  horse,  a  catastrophe  which  the  novelist  trans- 
fers to  the  disappointed  suitor. 

The  scenery  of  the  drama  which  led  to  such  a  tragic 
event  is  placed  by  the  author  in  the  Lammermuir  Hills, 
a  stretch  of  mountainous  country  lying  along  the  borders 
of  Haddington  and  Berwick,  in  the  southeastern  comer 
of  Scotland.  At  the  extreme  eastern  limits  of  this  ele- 
vated section,  the  land  drops  abruptly  into  the  North 
Sea,  forming  a  line  of  precipitous  cliffs,  rising  three  or 
four  hundred  feet  above  the  ocean.  To  gain  some  idea 
of  the  character  of  the  region,  we  drove  as  far  as  the 
motor-car  could  carry  us  and  came  to  a  stop  at  the  end 
of  the  road  on  the  northern  edge  of  the  village  of  North- 
field.  A  long  walk,  leading  at  first  through  an  open 
field  in  which  cattle  were  grazing,  then  along  a  narrow 
path  by  a  brook,  where  numerous  sheep  were  pasturing, 
thence  by  a  winding  road  to  the  summit  of  a  hill,  brought 
me  at  last  to  the  hghthouse  of  St.  Abbs  Head.  Vast 
masses  of  rocks  rise  directly  out  of  the  ocean  to  enormous 
heights  and  stretch  along  the  coast  as  far  as  the  eye  can 
see.  Except  for  the  lighthouse,  there  was  no  sign  of  life 
save  the  sea-fowl,  which  flew  wildly  in  every  direc- 
tion, screaming  in  one  incessant  chorus  of  shrill  com- 
plaint. A  lowering  sky  added  to  the  weird  loneliness  of 
the  scene.  I  was  gone  so  long  that  my  wife,  who  wisely 
remained  in  the  car,  began  to  feel  certain  that  I  had 
tumbled  over  the  rocks  into  the  sea,  and  busied  herself 
for  an  hour  in  unpleasant  thoughts  of  how  she  should 
manage  to  get  my  remains  home.  But  after  nearly  two 
hoxu"s,  the  remains  came  walking  back  without  even  the 

2X8 


THE  BRIDE  OF  LAMMERMOOR 

excitement  of  being  chased  by  a  wild  bull .  Thus  do  most 
of  our  worries  melt  away  if  we  give  them  time  enough. 

Somewhere  on  this  rugged  shore  was  the  castle  of 
Wolf's  Crag,  the  last  remnant  of  the  property  of  the 
Master  of  Ravenswood  and  the  scene  of  Caleb  Balder- 
stone's  wonderful  expedients  to  maintain  the  honour  of 
his  house.  Caleb,  by  the  way,  who  would  make  a  first- 
class  performer  in  a  farce  comedy,  and  who  served  a 
useful  purpose  in  reUeving  the  strain  of  a  sombre  narra- 
tive, was  not  without  a  prototype  in  real  life.  His  exploit 
in  carrying  off  the  roast  goose  and  the  brace  of  wild 
ducks  from  the  kitchen  of  the  cooper,  to  make  a  dinner 
for  his  master's  guests,  was  based  upon  a  story  told  to 
Scott  by  a  nobleman  of  his  acquaintance.  A  certain 
gentleman  in  reduced  circumstances  had  a  servant 
named  John,  whose  resourcefulness  was  much  like 
Caleb's.  A  party  of  four  or  five  friends  once  sought  to 
surprise  this  gentleman  by  imexpectedly  presenting 
themselves  for  dinner,  suspecting  there  would  be  no 
provision  in  the  house  for  such  an  entertainment.  But 
promptly  as  the  village  clock  struck  the  hour  for  the 
noonday  meal,  John  placed  on  the  table  '  a  stately  rump 
of  boiled  beef,  with  a  proper  accompaniment  of  greens, 
amply  sufficient  to  dine  the  whole  party.'  He  had  sim- 
ply appropriated  the  'kail-pot'  of  a  neighbour,  leaving 
the  latter  and  his  friends  to  dine  on  bread  and  cheese, 
which,  John  said,  was  'good  enough  for  them.' 

Caleb's  trick  of  magniloquently  referring  to  scores  of 
imaginary  servants  and  detailing  the  particulars  of  fic- 
titious banquets,  all  to  maintain  the  honour  of  the  house, 
had  a  parallel  in  the  antics  of  a  Scotch  innkeeper  of  the 
Border  country,  who,  on  the  arrival  of  a  person  of  impor- 

219 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

tance,  would  call  Hostler  No.  lo  down  from  Hayloft 
No.  J 5  to  conduct  the  gentleman's  horse  to  one  of  the 
best  stalls  in  Stable  No.  20,  and  do  it  in  such  an  eloquent 
style  as  to  convey  the  impression  of  accommodations  on 
a  scale  of  magnificent  proportions.^  Wolf's  Crag,  accord- 
ing to  the  novel,  is  between  St.  Abbs  Head  and  the  vil- 
lage of  Eyemouth.  There  is  no  such  castle  on  that  part 
of  the  coast,  but  in  the  opposite  direction,  only  a  few 
miles  from  St.  Abbs  Head,  on  a  high  rock  overlooking 
the  sea,  is  Fast  Castle,  which  answers  very  well  to  the 
description.  This  much  Scott  himself  acknowledged, 
but  in  his  usual  cautious  way,  asserting  that  he  never 
saw  the  castle  except  from  the  sea.^  An  interesting 
painting  of  Fast  Castle,  presented  to  Sir  Walter  by  the 
artist,  the  Rev.  John  Thomson  of  Duddingston,  adorns 
the  drawing-room  at  Abbotsford. 

Viewed  from  the  sea.  Fast  Castle  is  more  like  the  nest  of 
some  gigantic  Roc  or  Condor,  than  a  dwelling  for  human 
beings;  being  so  completely  allied  in  colour  and  rugged 
appearance  with  the  huge  cliffs,  amongst  which  it  seems  to  be 
jammed,  that  it  is  difficult  to  discover  what  is  rock  and  what 
is  building.  To  the  land  side  the  only  access  is  by  a  rocky 
path  of  a  very  few  feet  wide,  bordered  on  either  hand  by  a 
tremendous  precipice.  This  leads  to  the  castle,  a  donjon 
tower  of  moderate  size,  surrounded  by  flanking  walls,  as 
usual,  which,  rising  without  interval  and  abruptly  from  the 
verge  of  the  precipice  must  in  ancient  times  have  rendered 
the  place  nearly  impregnable.' 

*  From  Robert  Chambers's  Illustrations  of  the  Author  of  Waverley. 

'  In  a  note  to  the  introduction  to  the  Chronicles  of  the  Canongate, 
Scott  says, '  I  would  partioUarly  intimate  the  Kaim  of  Uric,  on  the  east- 
em  coast  of  Scotland,  as  having  suggested  an  idea  for  the  tower  called 
Wolf's  Crag,  which  the  public  more  generally  identified  with  the  ancient 
tower  of  Fast  Castle.' 

•  From  Provincial  Antiquities  of  Scotland. 

320 


THE  BRIDE  OF  LAMMERMOOR 

Fast  Castle  gained  some  notoriety  from  the  attempt,  in 
1600,  of  an  infamous  character,  Logan  of  Restalrig,  in 
conspiracy  with  the  Earl  of  Cowrie  and  his  brother, 
to  kidnap  King  James  VI,  the  intent  being  to  imprison 
him  there,  and  to  collect  their  reward  from  Queen  Eliza- 
beth. Fortunately  for  James,  the  plot  failed. 

The  original  of  Ravenswood  Castle  is  uncertain. 
Constable,  who  pubUshed  a  volume  of  *  illustrations  to  the 
Waverley  Novels'  in  1821,  two  years  after  the  appear- 
ance of  '  The  Bride  of  Lammermoor '  included  an  engrav- 
ing of  Crichton  Castle,  with  a  quotation  referring  to 
Ravenswood:  'on  the  gorge  of  a  pass  or  mountain  glen, 
ascending  from  the  fertile  plains  of  East  Lothian,  there 
stood  in  former  times  an  extensive  castle,  of  which  only 
the  ruins  are  now  visible.'  Crichton  is  at  the  western 
extremity  of  the  high  country  of  which  the  Lammermuir 
Hills  constitute  the  greatest  portion.  Scott's  fondness 
for  it  is  well  known,  as  readers  of  *  Marmion'  will  remem- 
ber. Others  have  supposed  Wintoun  House,  a  fine  old 
mansion  farther  to  the  north,  to  have  been  the  original. 
Scott  could  hardly  have  had  this  in  mind,  however,  for 
he  distinctly  refers  to  the  place  as  now  in  ruins.  Bearing 
in  mind  that  Scott  paid  httle  attention  to  geographical 
requirements,  it  seems  probable  that  he  really  referred 
to  the  ruins  of  Crichton.  This  is  further  confirmed  by 
the  fact  that  the  picture  to  which  I  have  referred  was 
painted  by  Alexander  Nasmyth,  who  was  a  friend  of 
Scott's  and  the  father-in-law  of  the  author's  frequent 
correspondent,  Daniel  Terry.  If  Crichton  Castle  is 
Ravenswood,  the  Crichton  Kirk  may  be  considered  as 
the  place  where  the  wedding  of  Lucy  Ashton  and  Buck- 
law  took  place.  It  is  a  curious-shaped  building,  with 

221 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

square  tower  and  walls,  partly  covered  with  ivy,  stand- 
ing in  the  midst  of  a  well-kept  churchyard. 

The  novel  opens  with  the  dramatic  burial-scene  of 
the  father  of  the  yoimg  Master  of  Ravenswood.  The 
chapel  where  this  took  place  may  be  supposed  to  be 
Coldingham  Priory,  the  oldest  nunnery  in  Scotland,  a 
quaint  little  structure,  partly  in  ruins,  but  partly  used  for 
reUgious  worship.  In  the  chapter  on  'Marmion'  I  have 
already  referred  to  this  chapel  as  the  place  where  the 
body  of  a  nun  was  foimd  immured  in  the  walls. 

The  village  of  Eyemouth,  a  quaint  old  fishing  settle- 
ment at  the  mouth  of  the  river  Eye,  wiU  serve  as  an 
'original*  of  Wolf's  Hope.  On  the  links  or  sand  knolls, 
north  of  here,  were  the  quicksands  caUed  the  *  Kelpie's 
Flow.'  While  in  the  village  I  made  diligent  inquiries, 
but  could  get  no  information  except  from  one  man,  who 
thought  that  the  sandy  beach  of  Coldingham  Bay  might 
be  the  locality  which  Scott  meant,  but  he  had  never 
heard  of  the  quicksands,  and  said  if  any  had  ever  ex- 
isted in  the  vicinity  they  must  have  disappeared  long 
since. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  the  Kelpie's  Flow  was  the 
culminating  scene  of  the  tragedy.  The  prophecies  of 
Thomas  the  Rhymer,  so  Scott  would  have  us  believe, 
were  always  fulfilled,  and  one  of  them  was  hanging  over 
the  head  of  the  Master  of  Ravenswood,  to  the  great  trep- 
idation of  the  faithful  Caleb.  The  lines  were  these:  — 

When  the  last  Laird  of  Ravenswood  to 

Ravenswood  shall  ride, 
And  woo  a  dead  maiden  to  be  his  bride, 
He  shall  stable  his  steed  in  the  Kelpie's  flow 
And  his  name  shall  be  lost  for  evermoe. 

222 


THE  BRIDE  OF  LAMMERMOOR 

After  the  tragedy  in  the  Castle,  young  Ravenswood  rode 
out  to  meet  the  bride's  brother,  Colonel  Ashton,  to  fight 
a  duel  on  the  sands  of  Wolf's  Hope.  In  the  agitated 
state  of  his  mind,  he  neglected  the  precaution  of  keeping 
on  the  firm  sands  near  the  rocks,  and  took  a  shorter  and 
more  dangerous  course.  Horse  and  man  disappeared  in 
the  deadly  quicksands,  and  thus  was  the  prophecy  ful- 
filled. Only  a  large  sable  feather  was  foimd  as  a  sign  of 
the  young  man's  dreadful  fate.  Old  Caleb  took  it  up, 
dried  it,  and  put  it  in  his  bosom.  Thus  ended  the  tale 
which  Lockhart  considered  '  the  most  pure  and  powerful 
of  all  the  tragedies  that  Scott  ever  penned.' 


CHAPTER   XVI 

A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE 

Dalgetty  —  Dugald  Dalgetty;  Ritt-master  Dugald 
Dalgetty  of  Drumthwacket;  learned  graduate  of  the 
Mareschal  College,  Aberdeen;  stalwart  soldier;  cavalier 
of  fortune;  lieutenant  under  that  invincible  monarch, 
the  bulwark  of  the  Protestant  faith,  the  Lion  of  the 
North,  the  terror  of  Austria,  Gustavus  Adolphus;  Cap- 
tain Dalgetty;  and  finally  Sir  Dugald  Dalgetty  — 
stalks  with  egregious  effrontery  through  the  pages  of 
this  novel,  from  start  to  finish,  dragging  his  good  horse 
Gustavus  along  with  him.  He  is  a  bore,  —  undeniably 
so.  Yet  we  can  laugh  at  his  eccentricities  in  spite  of 
their  tediousness,  especially  when  reading  the  novel  a 
second  time  after  the  desire  to  know  the  outcome  of  the 
story  has  been  satisfied.  As  an  original  character  he 
stands  by  the  side  of  BaiUe  Nicol  Jarvie,  although  he 
does  not  arouse  the  same  subtle  feeling  of  deUghtful  sat- 
isfaction. The  Bailie  is  always  welcome,  but  Dalgetty 
is  everlastingly  in  the  way.  And  yet  we  could  not  possi- 
bly get  along  without  him.  We  can  forgive  his  pedantry 
and  overlook  his  interminable  lectures  on  military 
strategy  in  view  of  the  loyalty  and  courage  with  which 
he  faces  Argyle  in  the  dimgeon,  compels  that  nobleman 
to  furnish  a  means  of  escape  and  rescues  Ranald  of  the 
Mist.  Nor  can  we  help  admiring  the  very  effrontery  of 
the  man,  when  he  uses  it  to  such  excellent  advantage 
in  cajoling  the  Presbyterian  chaplain,  thereby  causing 

224 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE 

that  worthy  man  to  furnish  the  one  thing  needed  to  fa- 
cilitate his  safe  retreat.  The  story  might  well  have  been 
called,  as  it  is  in  the  Italian  and  Portuguese  versions, '  A 
Soldier  of  Fortune,'  for  Dalgetty,  rather  than  Montrose, 
is  the  real  hero.  In  this  connection  it  is  curious  to  note 
that,  in  so  far  as  its  chief  incidents  concern  Montrose, 
the  tale  is  not  a  legend,  but  history.  The  two  important 
words  of  the  title  are  both,  therefore,  slightly  misleading. 
The  journey  into  the  Highlands  of  the  Marquis  of 
Montrose,  in  disguise  and  attended  by  only  two  gentle- 
men, is  a  matter  of  history.  It  was  in  1644,  during  the 
Civil  War,  when  the  forces  of  Charles  I  were  being 
menaced  by  an  army  of  twenty  thousand  men  under  the 
Scotch  Covenanter,  General  Leslie.  Montrose  urged 
Charles  to  make  a  coimter-demonstration  in  the  North 
and  to  draw  Leslie  back  to  the  defence  of  Scotland  by 
uniting  the  Highlanders  with  a  strong  force  of  ten  thou- 
sand Irish  CathoHcs.  At  length,  armed  with  extraor- 
dinary powers,  as  the  representative  of  the  King,  he 
was  permitted  to  set  out  with  a  small  army  of  about  one 
thousand  men.  These  became  dissatisfied,  however, 
and  most  of  them  deserted.  In  despair  Montrose  now 
resolved  upon  the  bold  stroke  which  proved  to  be  the 
beginning  of  his  brilliant  military  record.  Disguised  as 
a  groom  and  attended  only  by  Sir  William  RoUo  and 
Colonel  Sibbald,  he  made  his  way  to  the  Perthshire 
Highlands,  where  he  was  joined  by  Lord  ELilpont,  son  of 
the  Earl  of  Airth  and  Menteith,  with  about  five  hun- 
dred men.  The  Irish  troops,  after  being  in  danger  of 
complete  extermination  by  the  Marquis  of  Argyle,  fin- 
ally arrived,  but  mustered  only  twelve  hundred  men 
instead  of  ten  thousand.  They  were  ordered  to  march 

225 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

to  Blair  Atholl,  where  Montrose  met  the  Highland 
chiefs  and  sent  out  the  call  to  arms.  The  'fiery  cross,' 
no  doubt  very  much  as  described  in  *  The  Lady  of  the 
Lake,'  went  out  from  house  to  house  and  from  clan  to 
clan,  and  Montrose  soon  had  an  army  of  three  thousand 
men.  He  marched  toward  Perth,  and  at  Tippermuir, 
four  miles  west  of  that  city,  defeated  the  Covenanters 
on  the  ist  day  of  September,  1644.  Marching  rapidly 
towards  Aberdeen,  he  won  another  victory  at  the  Bridge 
of  Dee  on  the  12th  of  the  same  month. 

With  the  swift  movements  which  characterized  his 
generalship,  Montrose  won  many  a  battle.  Meanwhile 
the  Marquis  of  Argyle,  whom  most  of  the  clans  hated 
for  his  imscrupulous  aggressions,  was  gathering  a  strong 
force  on  the  shores  of  Loch  Linnhe.  In  midwinter,  with 
snow  upon  the  groimd,  Montrose  crossed  the  mountains 
with  his  army,  a  feat  hitherto  regarded  as  impossible, 
but  quite  within  the  compass  of  that  leader's  remark- 
able genius.  He  met  Argyle  at  Inverlochy  and  defeated 
him  with  a  loss  of  fifteen  hundred  men,  his  own  losses 
being  only  one  oflScer  and  three  privates.  Argyle's  forces 
scattered  in  every  direction  and  were  pursued  for  many 
miles.  The  Marquis  himself,  regarding  discretion  as  the 
better  part  of  valour,  turned  over  the  command  of  his 
forces  to  his  cousin  and  watched  the  battle  from  his 
ship  —  an  act  that  was  severely  condemned  as  coward- 
ice, even  by  his  own  friends.  In  extenuation  it  can  only 
be  said  that  Argyle,  while  an  able  politician  and  states- 
man, was  never  a  soldier. 

While  Scott  based  his  story  upon  these  historical 
events,  he  departed  from  the  facts  in  some  of  the  less 
important  details,  to  serve  the  purposes  of  his  romance. 

226 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE 

The  most  conspicuous  of  these  variations  is  in  the  part 
played  by  Lord  Kilpont,  as  the  Earl  of  Menteith. 
According  to  the  novel,  the  Earl  is  a  young  man  who 
falls  in  love  with  Annot  Lyle,  a  pretty  little  maiden  liv- 
ing in  the  household  of  the  McAulays  and  supposed  to 
be  a  rescued  waif  of  the  hated  and  greatly  feared  tribe, 
known  as  the  'Children  of  the  Mist.'  Annot  is  also 
beloved  by  the  half-crazy  Highlander,  Allan  McAulay. 
Lord  Menteith,  so  long  as  the  girl's  antecedents  are 
supposed  to  be  so  lowly,  can  entertain  no  thought  of 
marriage  and  so  informs  Allan.  When  it  is  discovered, 
however,  that  she  is  really  the  daughter  of  Sir  Duncan 
Campbell,  and  the  heiress  of  Ardenvohr,  a  family  as 
honourable  as  his  own,  Menteith  no  longer  hesitates, 
and  as  Annot  has  long  reciprocated  his  affection,  the 
marriage  is  easily  arranged.  Allan  does  not  consent  so 
readily,  but  hastily  encounters  the  Earl  and  fiercely 
challenges  him.  Convinced  that  the  man  is  insane,  the 
Earl  hesitates  a  moment,  when  Allan  suddenly  draws 
his  dirk  and  with  terrific  force  plunges  it  into  the  Earl's 
bosom.  A  steel  corslet  saves  the  latter's  Ufe,  though  a 
severe  wound  is  inflicted,  and  in  a  few  weeks  he  is  well 
enough  to  be  married  and  the  ceremony  takes  place  in 
Sir  Duncan's  castle.  Allan  meanwhile  appears  suddenly 
before  the  Marquis  of  Argyle  at  Inverary,  throws  a 
bloody  dirk  upon  the  table,  makes  a  brief  explanation, 
and  disappears  forever.  The  novel  closes  in  the  conven- 
tional way.  The  Earl  of  Menteith,  adding  his  bride's 
large  estate  to  his  own,  'lived  long,  happy  alike  in  pub- 
lic regard  and  in  domestic  affection,  and  died  at  a  good 
old  age.' 
The  Earl,  Lord  Kilpont,  was  not  so  fortunate.  He  was 
227 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

suddenly  stabbed  by  James  Stewart  of  Ardvoirlich,  a 
supposed  friend  with  whom  he  was  on  terms  of  the  clos- 
est intimacy.  This  event,  which  was  immediately  fatal, 
took  place  a  few  days  after  the  battle  of  Tippermuir  and 
not  after  Inverlochy.  There  was  no  question  of  jealous 
rivalry  in  love.  Kilpont  had  been  married  about  twelve 
years  and  left  a  family  of  several  children.  The  most 
probable  explanation  is  that  Stewart,  who  had  a  streak 
of  insanity  owing  to  the  frightful  circimistances  of  his 
birth, ^  quarrelled  with  his  friend  at  a  time  when  he  was 
heated  with  drink  and  killed  him  imder  some  sudden 
mad  impulse.  He  immediately  deserted  Montrose  and 
was  subsequently  made  a  major  in  one  of  the  regiments 
of  Argyle,  a  fact  which  gave  colour  to  the  suspicion  that 
he  had  sought  Lord  Kilpont's  assistance  in  a  conspiracy 
to  assassinate  Montrose,  for  which  Argyle  would  have 
paid  a  rich  reward,  but  upon  meeting  with  an  indignant 
refusal,  struck  his  friend  with  a  dirk  as  the  readiest 
means  of  avoiding  the  betrayal  of  his  plans. 

Stewart,  like  McAulay,  is  described  as  'uncommonly 
tall,  strong,  and  active,  with  such  power  in  the  grasp  of 
his  hand  as  could  force  the  blood  from  beneath  the  nails 
•of  the  persons  who  contended  with  him  in  this  feat  of 
strength.  His  temper  was  moody,  fierce,  and  irascible.' 
There  was  good  reason  for  this  savage  disposition  and 
for  his  implacable  hostility  toward  the  *  Children  of  the 
Mist,'  his  father  and  mother  having  been  the  victims  of 
one  of  the  most  fiendish  outrages  which  ever  disgraced 
the  history  of  the  Highlanders. 

The  scenery  of  'A  Legend  of  Montrose '  brings  us  back 

^  The  story  is  related  at  length  in  the  Introduction  to  A  Legend  of 
Montrose. 

228 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE 

to  the  people  and  the  country  which  Scott  described 
with  so  much  enthusiasm  in  '  The  Lady  of  the  Lake '  and 
again  in  'Waverley'  and  'Rob  Roy.'  To  catch  some- 
thing of  the  spirit  of  it  we  drove  westward  from  Callan- 
der and  paused  for  a  short  time  at  the  beautiful  Falls  of 
Leny,  where  the  river  of  that  name  forms  the  outlet  of 
Loch  Lubnaig  and  the  head  waters  of  the  river  Teith. 
Here  we  may  suppose  Lord  Menteith  and  'Anderson,' 
the  disguised  earl,  to  be  passing  on  their  way  to  the 
north  when  they  fell  in  with  the  garrulous  Captain 
Dalgetty.  Darnlinvarich,  where  the  clans  gathered,  is 
wholly  fictitious,  the  real  meeting  having  taken  place 
near  Blair  AthoU.  One  of  the  incidents  which  happened 
there  is,  however,  based  upon  fact. 

An  Englishman,  Sir  Miles  Musgrave,  it  will  be  remem- 
bered, had  made  a  wager  with  Angus  McAulay  which 
threatened  to  embarrass  that  gentleman.  When  on  a 
visit  to  the  house  of  the  former,  Angus  had  seen  six  solid 
silver  candlesticks  put  on  the  table.  The  Englishman 
rallied  Angus  a  little,  knowing  that  the  sight  was  a  nov- 
elty to  the  Scotchman,  and  the  latter  promptly  swore 
that  he  had  more  and  better  candlesticks  in  his  own  cas- 
tle. A  wager  was  immediately  offered  and  accepted  that 
the  Scotch  laird  could  not  produce  them,  the  amount 
being  so  large  that  its  payment  would  have  embarrassed 
either  party,  but  more  particularly  the  Scotchman.  The 
Englishman  appeared  with  a  friend  at  Darnlinvarich, 
just  at  the  time  of  the  arrival  of  the  Earl  of  Menteith 
and  his  party,  and  there  was  great  anxiety  over  the 
apparently  certain  loss  of  the  wager.  But  Allan,  the 
brother  of  Angus,  was  equal  to  the  emergency.  Dinner 
was  announced  and  the  company  marched  in.  A  large 

229 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

oaken  table,  spread  with  substantial  joints  of  meat,  was 
set  for  eight  guests,  and  behind  each  chair  stood  a  gigan- 
tic Highlander,  in  full  native  costume,  holding  in  his 
right  hand  a  drawn  broadsword,  the  point  turned  down- 
ward, and  in  his  left  a  blazing  pine  torch.  Then  Allan 
stepped  forth,  and  pointing  to  the  torch-bearers,  said  in 
a  deep  and  stern  voice:  'Behold,  gentlemen  cavaliers, 
the  chandeliers  of  my  brother's  house,  the  ancient  fash- 
ion of  our  ancient  name;  not  one  of  these  men  knows 
any  law  but  their  Chief's  command.  Would  you  dare 
to  compare  to  themm  value  the  richest  ore  that  ever  was 
dug  out  of  the  mine?  How  say  you,  cavaliers?  —  is  your 
wager  won  or  lost?'  'Lost,  lost,'  said  Musgrave,  gaily; 
*my  own  silver  candlesticks  are  all  melted  and  riding  on 
horseback  by  this  time,  and  I  wish  the  fellows  that 
enlisted  were  half  as  trusty  as  these.* 

The  meeting  of  the  clans  was  interrupted  by  an  unwel- 
come guest,  Sir  Duncan  Campbell,  who  came  with  a 
message  from  Argyle.  Captain  Dalgetty  was  appointed 
to  return  with  him,  under  a  flag  of  truce,  and  together 
they  journeyed  to  the  Castle  of  Ardenvohr,  the  residence 
of  Sir  Duncan. 

The  ancient  Celtic  fortress  here  described  is  the 
ruined  castle  of  Dimstaffnage,  reached  by  a  short  drive 
north  from  Oban.  Its  origin  is  unknown.  According  to 
one  tradition,  it  was  founded  by  a  Pictish  monarch, 
contemporary  with  Julius  Caesar.  In  its  present  shape 
the  building  probably  dates  from  about  1250.  It  fell 
into  the  hands  of  Robert  Bruce  in  1308.  The  castle  is  a 
heavy  structure  of  stone,  standing  on  a  solid  rock,  and 
protected  by  the  waters  of  Loch  Linnhe  on  three  sides. 
It  was  originally  accessible  only  by  a  drawbridge.   It  is 

230 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE 

about  one  hundred  and  forty  feet  long  and  one  hundred 
feet  wide.  The  walls  are  ten  feet  thick  and  sixty  feet  high. 

This  ancient  castle  is  the  place  where  the  Scottish 
princes  were  once  crowned.  They  sat  on  the  same  stone 
that  was  used  at  the  recent  coronation  of  King  George  V, 
and  of  a  long  line  of  his  predecessors,  —  the  famous 
Stone  of  Scone.  This  ancient  relic  was  carried  from  Ire- 
land to  the  Island  of  lona,  and  thence  to  Dunstaffnage, 
where  it  remained  many  years.  Kenneth  MacAlpine, 
in  the  ninth  century,  removed  it  to  the  palace  of  Scone, 
near  Perth,  where  it  remained  five  centuries.  It  was 
finally  seized  by  Edward  I  and  carried  to  London,  where 
it  has  remained  for  the  last  six  centuries. 

A  knoll  on  the  south  of  the  castle  curiously  suggests 
the  Drumsnab  of  the  novel,  which  Dalgetty  insisted 
should  be  fortified  according  to  his  own  military  ideas. 
The  castle  of  Inverary,  on  the  shore  of  Loch  Fyne,  has 
been  replaced  by  a  magnificent  modem  mansion,  the 
seat  of  the  present  Duke  of  Argyle.  The  secret  passage 
to  the  dimgeon,  under  the  old  castle,  through  which  the 
novelist  supposes  the  Marquis  to  have  visited  his  pris- 
oners, was  suggested  by  a  similar  arrangement  in  the 
castle  of  Na worth,  to  which  I  have  previously  referred.^ 
A  private  stairway  leads  from  the  apartment  of  Lord 
Wilham  Howard  to  the  dungeon,  by  which  the  exper- 
iment of  Argyle  might  have  been  and  doubtless  was 
practised. 

A  sail  of  less  than  four  hours,  from  Oban,  north 
through  the  picturesque  channels  of  Loch  Linnhe, 
brought  us  to  Fort  William.  From  this  point  we  walked 
about  two  miles  to  the  battle-field  of  Inverlochy  and  the 

^  Pages  20  and  43. 
231 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

ruins  of  tlie  old  castle  of  that  name,  which  we  found  to  be 
in  a  sadly  neglected  state,  far  different  from  its  neigh- 
bour, Dunstaffnage.  The  four  walls  of  the  enclosure 
may  still  be  seen,  but  everything  is  in  a  ruinous  condi- 
tion. An  antiquated  horse  with  large  protruding  hip- 
bones was  grazing  in  what  was  once  the  moat,  and  before 
taking  a  picture  I  was  about  to  ask  a  boy  to  chase  him 
away.  But  on  second  thought  I  let  him  stay,  because 
he  harmonized  so  perfectly  with  the  surroundings. 

The  courtyard  is  about  one  hundred  feet  square.  The 
walls  are  nine  feet  thick  and  of  varying  height.  Like 
Dunstaffnage  the  castle  is  so  old  that  its  early  history  is 
shrouded  in  mystery.  Tradition  ascribes  its  origin  to 
the  Comyns,  near  the  end  of  the  thirteenth  century. 
The  view  in  every  direction  is  charming.  Across  the 
river  Lochy,  a  small  stream  which  joins  the  Caledonian 
Canal  to  the  waters  of  Loch  Linnhe,  may  be  seen  the 
town  of  Banavie,  and  in  the  distance  the  highlands  of  In- 
verness-shire. In  the  opposite  direction  we  could  barely 
see  the  peaks  of  Ben  Nevis,  peeping  through  the  mists 
that  himg  over  the  mountains.  To  the  north  are  the 
heights  of  Lochaber  over  which  the  Marquis  of  Mont- 
rose made  his  famous  march  of  thirty  miles  by  an  unfre- 
quented route,  during  a  heavy  fall  of  snow,  and  suddenly 
confronted  his  enemy  in  the  night,  when  they  supposed 
him  to  be  far  away  in  another  part  of  the  country. 

I  think  this  novel  must  have  been  inspired  by  Scott's 
admiration  of  the  'Great  Marquis,'  whose  brief  but 
brilliant  campaign  in  the  Highlands  appealed  to  his 
imagination  just  as  the  longer  career  of  Rob  Roy  had 
done.  It  took  him  back  among  the  picturesque  people 
whom  he  loved  to  describe,  and  amidst  scenery  where 

232 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE 

he  had  roamed  with  never-failing  delight.  The  one  pos- 
session in  the  remarkable  antiquarian  collection  at 
Abbotsford  which  Scott  cherished  more  than  any  other 
—  more  even  than  Rob  Roy's  gun  —  was  the  sword  of 
Montrose,  presented  to  the  Marquis  by  Charles  I  and 
formerly  the  property  of  the  monarch's  father,  King 
James.  Sir  Walter  thought  a  dialogue  between  this 
sword  and  Rob  Roy's  gun  might  be  composed  with  good 
effect.  It  seems  a  pity  he  did  not  undertake  it.  The 
sword  bears  on  both  sides  the  royal  arms  of  Great 
Britain.  The  blade  is  handsomely  ornamented,  the  hilt 
is  finished  in  open  scrollwork  of  silver  gilt,  and  the  grip 
is  bound  with  chains  of  silver,  alternating  with  bands 
of  gold. 

Scott  did  not  follow  the  fortunes  of  his  hero  beyond 
the  battle  of  Inverlochy,  where  he  left  him  in  triumph. 
Montrose  continued  his  success  until,  on  the  15  th  of 
August,  1645,  he  reached  his  climax  in  the  decisive  vic- 
tory of  Kilsyth.  He  was  now  the  master  of  Scotland, 
but,  unfortunately,  fate  deprived  him  of  the  fruits  of  his 
genius.  Summoned  to  England  to  meet  the  exigencies 
which  threatened  the  King,  and  unable  to  hold  his  High- 
landers for  an  invasion  of  the  South,  he  was  attacked  at 
Philiphaugh  by  Leslie,  who  easily  overcame  the  small 
opposing  force.  Montrose  escaped  to  the  Highlands, 
but  was  never  again  able  to  organize  an  army.  After 
spending  the  next  few  years  abroad,  he  returned  to  Scot- 
land in  1650,  where,  after  failing  again  to  simmaon  the 
clans,  he  was  betrayed  and  carried  a  prisoner  to  the  Tol- 
booth  in  Edinburgh.  On  the  21st  of  May,  when  only 
thirty-eight  years  old,  he  was  hanged  in  the  Grass- 
market  and  bravely  met  his  death. 


CHAPTER   XVII 

ivAiraoE 

From  'Bonnie  Scotland'  to  'Merrie  England 'was  not 
a  long  step  for  Sir  Walter,  for  he  had  already  peeped 
into  Yorkshire  at  Barnard  Castle  for  his  poem,  *  Rokeby.' 
The  principal  scenes  of  *  Ivanhoe '  are  laid  in  the  oppo- 
site end  of  the  same  county,  between  Sheffield  and 
Doncaster.  They  extend,  however,  as  far  south  as 
Ashby  de  la  Zouch,  and  northward  to  the  ancient  dty 
of  York.  As  we  rode  through  this  populous  country, 
humming  with  the  industry  of  thousands  of  busy  mills, 
its  crowded  cities  showing  street  after  street  of  substan- 
tial business  houses,  its  more  open  spaces  dotted  with 
neat  cottages  surrounded  by  well-kept  gardens,  its 
streams  crossed  by  bridges  of  stone  and  steel,  its  roads 
in  excellent  repair,  and  its  entire  aspect  betokening  the 
peace  and  prosf)erity  of  a  great  civilization,  it  was  diffi- 
cult to  picture  it  in  fancy  as  the  great  forest  roamed  by 
Robin  Hood  and  his  merry  men;  as  a  land  in  which  King 
Richard  and  Wilfred  of  Ivanhoe  performed  their  feats  of 
chivalry  and  daring;  as  the  region  in  which  Cedric  the 
Saxon  still  resented  the  intrusion  of  the  Normans,  and 
Front-de-Bceuf  maintained  a  feudal  castle  conceahng 
horrors  too  frightful  to  mention. 

We  succeeded,  however,  in  finding  a  bit  of  the  original 
forest,  in  identifying  the  ruins  of  two  castles  which 
figure  prominently  in  the  story,  and  several  others  which 
doubtless  served  as  types  of  the  prevailing  Norman  style 

«34 


^ 


5 


fl 


c?, 


•^ 


A     ^ 


2^     E     L 


E  R  A   N    C  E 


4°  LongitucI,.        West 


from       Greeuwicli  0°       Lon<;itiul«t       Kmi 


IVANHOE 

of  architecture,  besides  other  interesting  places  more 
remotely  associated  with  the  tale. 

The  town  of  Ashby  de  la  Zouch,  to  which  all  the 
people  of  the  story  wend  their  way  in  the  early  chapters, 
is  on  the  western  edge  of  Leicestershire,  about  midway 
between  Birmingham  and  Nottingham.  The  ancient 
castle  derives  its  name  from  the  fact  that  it  was  formerly 
owned  by  the  Zouch  family,  who  seem  to  have  had 
possession  until  1399.  Scott  was  slightly  in  error  in 
stating  that  at  this  time  (1194)  'the  castle  and  town  of 
Ashby  belonged  to  Roger  de  Quincey,  Earl  of  Winches- 
ter,' who  was  then  absent  in  the  Holy  Land.  It  is  not 
inconceivable,  however,  that  Prince  John  might  have 
taken  temporary  possession,  and,  after  all,  that  is  the 
main  point  of  the  story. 

The  castle  was  a  ruin  in  Scott's  day,  presenting  an 
appearance  very  much  the  same  as  now.  It  suggested 
the  scene  of  Prince  John's  banquet,  but  the  novelist 
well  knew  that  it  was  not  the  original  castle  which  stood 
on  the  spot  in  11 94.  Of  the  old  castle  we  found  only  a 
single  wall.  The  date  of  its  foundation  is  uncertain,  but 
it  was  probably  built  in  the  earlier  part  of  the  same 
century.  Its  successor,  represented  by  the  ruins  now 
visible,  was  built  in  1474,  nearly  three  hundred  years 
after  the  period  of  the  novel.  The  reigning  king  was 
Edward  IV,  and  one  of  his  prime  favourites  was  Wil- 
liam, Lord  Hastings,  who  was  not  only  loaded  with 
wealth  by  his  sovereign,  but  given  almost  unlimited 
authority  to  enclose  for  private  use  whatever  land  he 
wished  and  to  build  wherever  he  pleased.  Accordingly 
Hastings  took  possession  of  three  thousand  acres  of 
land  at  Ashby  and  erected  a  huge  castle,  despoiling  the 

23s 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

neighbouring  castle  of  Belvoir  of  much  lead,  with  which 
he  covered  his  towers.  The  strong  fortress  and  splendid 
castle  thus  erected  stood  intact  for  less  than  two  cent- 
uries. During  the  Civil  War  it  was  besieged  and  cap- 
tured by  the  Parliamentary  Army,  and  in  1648  was 
deliberately  made  untenable  by  a  Committee  of  the 
House  of  Commons,  who  had  been  appointed  to  deter- 
mine what  castles  and  other  fortified  places  were  to  be 
retained  and  which  ones  were  to  be  destroyed.  Ashby, 
unfortunately,  was  condemned  and  huge  sections  of  its 
walls  and  towers  were  undermined  and  pulled  down. 

The  ruin  consists  of  two  large  towers,  connected  by  an 
undergroimd  passage,  the  great  hall,  the  chapel,  and  the 
room  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots.  The  kitchen  tower  was 
of  great  strength,  having  walls  in  some  places  ten  feet 
thick,  and  the  remains  of  a  huge  kitchen  fireplace  may 
still  be  seen.  The  most  imposing  part  of  the  ruin  is  the 
keep.  This  was  a  tower  eighty  feet  high,  fitted  up  in 
great  magnificence  as  the  Earl's  apartment. 

The  great  tournament  was  supposed  to  be  held  in  a 
field  a  mile  or  two  from  the  tower.  After  the  tournament 
and  the  banquet  in  the  castle  which  followed,  Cedric  the 
Saxon  and  his  kinsman,  Athelstane  of  Coningsburgh, 
with  the  Lady  Rowena  and  their  servants  and  retainers, 
set  out  for  Rotherwood,  the  house  of  Cedric,  presumably 
in  the  neighbourhood  of,  or  possibly  a  fictitious  substi- 
tute for,  the  present  city  of  Rotherham.  Their  way  led 
through  a  great  forest,  some  remnants  of  which  may 
still  be  seen.  In  King  Richard's  time  the  entire  country 
between  Ashby  and  Rotherham  may  have  been  thickly 
wooded.  The  famous  Sherwood  Forest  occupied  the 
western  portion  of  Nottinghamshire,  extending  north 

236 


IVANHOE 

and  south  about  twenty-five  miles,  with  a  width  varying 
from  six  to  eight  miles.  In  this  extensive  woodland, 
Robin  Hood,  with  the  jolly  Friar  Tuck  and  the  minstrel 
Allan-a-Dale,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  'merry  men/ 
hunted  the  king's  deer,  robbed  the  rich  and  bestowed 
charity  upon  the  poor,  worshipped  the  Virgin  and  pil- 
laged the  ecclesiastical  establishments,  supported  them- 
selves by  means  of  their  marvellous  archery,  played 
practical  jokes  and  indulged  in  no  end  of  fun,  and  lived 
a  free,  open,  adventurous,  brave,  and  generous  Ufe,  in 
spite  of  their  outlawry.  Robin  Hood  was  imdoubtedly 
an  historical  character,  who  may  have  had  an  existence 
as  early  as  the  time  of  King  Richard,  but  whose  deeds 
have  been  so  much  enveloped  in  fiction  and  poetry  that 
his  real  exploits  cannot  be  determined.  The  legends 
that  have  been  woven  about  him  are  like  the  tales  of 
King  Arthur  —  mythical  but  probably  evolved  from 
some  hidden  germ  of  truth.  From  1377,  when  the  old- 
est known  mention  of  him  was  made  in  an  edition  of 
'Piers  the  Ploughman,'  down  to  the  Elizabethan  era, 
his  popularity  is  evinced  by  the  great  volume  of  bal- 
lad poetry  recording  his  performances. 

That  such  a  personage  should  have  made  a  strong 
appeal  to  Sir  Walter  Scott  was  inevitable,  and  he  seems 
to  have  woven  the  characteristic  exploits  of  Robin  Hood 
into  the  tale  of  *  Ivanhoe '  with  the  same  zest  which  he 
displayed  in  'The  Lady  of  the  Lake,'  'Waverley,' 
'Rob  Roy,'  and  'A  Legend  of  Montrose,'  where  he  so 
delighted  to  picture  the  Scottish  Highlanders  in  their 
native  country. 

North  of  Mansfield,  in  Nottinghamshire,  a  beautiful 
part  of  the  Forest  of  Sherwood  may  still  be  seen.  For 

237 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

many  miles  we  drove  through  endless  glades  and 
avenues,  the  rugged  oaks  intertwining  their  branches 
over  our  heads,  now  and  then  forming  those  *  long  sweep- 
ing vistas'  which  Scott  describes  so  well,  *in  the  intri- 
cacy of  which  the  eye  delights  to  lose  itself,  while 
imagination  considers  them  as  the  paths  to  yet  wilder 
scenes  of  silvan  solitude.'  Here  and  there  we  could  see 
herds  of  deer,  coming  boldly  into  view,  knowing  well 
that  the  arrows  of  Robin  Hood's  men  are  things  of  the 
past.  All  this  region  is  now  well  cared  for.  There  are 
splendid  palaces  with  lakes,  fountains,  and  flowers, 
transforming  the  old  forest  into  a  veritable  fairy-land. 
Thoresby  House  with  its  beautiful  park  is  the  property 
of  Earl  Man  vers;  Climiber,  on  the  border  of  the  Car- 
biu-ton  Lakes,  is  the  stately  seat  of  the  Duke  of  New- 
castle, and  Welbeck  Abbey,  with  gardens  covering 
thirty-two  acres,  lakes  of  one  hundred  and  fifty-nine 
acres,  and  a  deer  park  of  sixteen  hundred  and  forty 
acres,  is  the  magnificent  domain  of  the  Duke  of  Port- 
land. All  this  section,  which  has  been  dubbed  'the 
Dukeries,'  wMle  preserving  something  of  the  appearance 
of  a  forest,  can  only  present  a  striking  contrast  to  the 
wild  tangle  of  the  woods,  with  their  narrow  and  devious 
paths,  through  which  the  Saxon  party  passed  on  their 
way  to  Rotherwood. 

Cedric,  it  will  be  remembered,  soon  overtook  Isaac  of 
York,  the  rich  Jew,  and  his  lovely  daughter,  Rebecca, 
who  had  been  deserted  by  their  cowardly  escort.  They 
were  carrying,  in  a  litter,  *a  sick  friend,'  under  which 
designation  they  concealed  the  identity  of  Ivanhoe. 
The  whole  party  was  later  surprised  and  captured  by 
some  of  the  Norman  nobles  of  Prince  John's  party, 

238 


IVANHOE 

disguised  as  outlaws,  by  whom  they  were  carried  to 
Torquilstone,  the  castle  of  Front-de-Boeuf.  This  imag- 
inary feudal  edifice  may  be  supposed  to  be  in  the  vicin- 
ity of  Harthill,  a  village  nine  miles  south  of  Rotherham. 

The  dramatic  incidents  that  occurred  here  are 
familiar  to  every  one:  how  De  Bracy  made  his  futile 
attempt  to  woo  the  Lady  Rowena,  trusting  to  his  hand- 
some face  and  foppish  clothes;  how  the  Templar  tried 
his  blandishments  upon  Rebecca  and  was  defeated  by 
her  courage  in  threatening  to  leap  from  the  battle- 
ments, should  he  advance  a  single  step;  how  Front-de- 
Boeuf  sought  to  extort  a  fortune  from  Isaac  the  Jew  by 
the  most  cruel  torture;  and  how  the  villainy  of  all  three 
was  interrupted  by  a  bugle  blast,  announcing  an  attack 
upon  the  castle  by  a  band  of  outlaws,  headed  by  the 
gallant  Robin  Hood,  who  was  ably  supported  by  the 
powerful  battle-axe  of  the  Black  Knight  and  the  wit  of 
Wamba  the  Jester. 

After  the  fall  of  the  castle  it  will  be  remembered  that 
the  victors  assembled  under  a  huge  oak  to  divide  the 
spoils,  and  that  Isaac  of  York  and  the  rich  Prior  Aymer 
were  compelled  to  sentence  each  other  to  the  payment 
of  a  heavy  ransom  —  a  clever  scheme  well  calculated 
to  furnish  not  only  amusement  but  substantial  profit  to 
the  outlaws. 

There  are  several  large  oaks  of  Sherwood  Forest  still 
in  existence,  any  one  of  which  might  have  been  in  the 
mind  of  Sir  Walter.  We  found  an  excellent  type,  which 
was  perhaps  known  to  him,  near  Edwinstowe,  northeast 
of  Mansfield.  It  is  called  the  'Major  Oak'  and  was  a 
monarch  of  the  forest  in  Robin  Hood's  time.  It  is  said 
to  be  fourteen  hundred  years  old.  Its  circumference,  just 

239 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

above  the  ground,  is  sixty  feet,  and  there  is  room  inside 
the  hollow  trunk  for  a  round  dozen  of  average-sized  men. 
Unlike  many  other  ancient  oaks,  its  huge  limbs  are  well 
preserved  and  remarkably  symmetrical,  its  foliage 
forming  a  huge  ellipsoid,  seventy-five  feet  in  length. 

Although  Torquilstone  was  imaginary,  Sir  Walter 
was  not  without  types  of  the  old  Norman  castles.  He 
refers  to  Middleham  as  the  seat  of  the  brother  of  Prior 
Aymer,  and  the  ruins  of  this  castle  may  still  be  seen  in 
the  village  of  that  name,  in  the  West  Riding  of  York- 
shire. The  interior  or  keep  is  in  the  distinctive  Norman 
style  of  architecture,  but  the  outer  walls  belong  to  a 
later  period.  This  castle  was  foimded  by  Robert  Fitz- 
Ralph  or  Ranulph,  a  nephew  of  King  William  Rufus, 
about  1 1 90.  Its  walls  are  plain  and  massive,  suggesting 
great  strength,  but  no  beauty.  In  the  interior  of  the 
keep  may  be  seen  the  remains  of  what  was  once  a  huge 
and  magnificent  banqueting-hall,  with  high  arched 
windows  on  the  side.  For  centuries  Middleham  was  the 
residence  of  powerful  barons  and  at  times  of  royalty.  In 
the  fifteenth  century  it  came  into  the  possession  of  the 
famous  Earl  of  Warwick,  *  the  Kingmaker,'  and  later  of 
his  infamous  son-in-law,  the  Duke  of  Gloucester,  after- 
ward King  Richard  IH.  Edward,  Prince  of  Wales,  the 
only  legitimate  son  of  Richard,  was  bom  here.  It  was  to 
secure  the  succession  of  this  prince  to  the  throne  that 
Richard  caused  the  murder  of  his  two  nephews  to  be 
perpetrated  in  the  Tower  of  London. 

Edward  IV  was  a  prisoner  here,  and  made  his  escape 
as  told  by  Shakespeare  in  'King  Henry  VI.'  ^  After  the 
battle  of  Bosworth,  Henry  VII  took  possession  of 
^  Part  ni,  act  iv,  scene  v. 
240 


IVANHOE 

Middleham.  In  the  Civil  Wars  the  forces  of  Cromwell 
destroyed  the  castle.  From  that  time  until  1884,  when 
it  came  into  possession  of  the  present  owner,  the  ruins 
have  been  a  stone  quarry  for  the  neighbourhood  and  a 
large  part  of  the  castle  has  been  carried  away  piece- 
meal. The  enclosure  became  a  dumping-groimd  for  all 
kinds  of  trash  and  a  free  pig-pen  and  cow-stable.  In 
1884,  it  was  cleaned  out  and  is  now  in  charge  of  a 
keeper.  This  famous  castle,  occupied  as  it  was  at  times 
by  men  of  all  the  ferocious  and  conscienceless  qualities 
of  Front-de-Boeuf,  might  well  have  served  as  a  sugges- 
tion for  Torquilstone. 

Richmond  Castle,  lying  a  few  miles  north  of  Middle- 
ham,  is  of  even  greater  antiquity  and  a  far  nobler  speci- 
men of  the  Norman  architecture.  It  was  founded  in 
107 1  by  Alan  Rufus,  to  whom  William  the  Conqueror 
granted  the  land  of  Richmondshire.  Alan  selected  a  rock 
on  the  bank  of  the  river  Swale  and  here  he  constructed 
a  fortress  that  was  well-nigh  impregnable.  The  great 
'keep'  was  built  in  1146,  and  still  stands  proudly  erect, 
in  spite  of  its  nearly  eight  hundred  years'  resistance  to 
wind  and  weather  as  well  as  the  storms  of  war,  looking 
as  if  conscious  of  its  power  to  stand  the  assaults  of  eight 
centuries  more.  We  went  to  Richmond  expecting  to  see 
a  ruin;  we  were  astonished  to  find,  instead,  a  fine  tower 
one  hundred  and  eight  feet  high,  fifty-four  feet  long,  and 
forty-eight  feet  wide,  used  as  an  armoury  by  a  modern 
regiment  of  soldiers.  Its  walls  are  of  extraordinary  thick- 
ness and  the  masonry  looks  as  fresh  and  clean  as  that  of 
many  a  building  of  half  a  century's  duration. 

Aside  from  the  remarkable  keep,  the  castle  is  really  a 
ruin.   Its  walls,  which  originally  enclosed  a  triangular 

241 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

space  of  five  acres,  have  crumbled  away,  but  enough 
remains  to  identify  various  halls,  chapels,  dungeons, 
and  imderground  passages. 

The  castle  was  seized  by  Richard  Coeur-de-Lion  and 
held  by  him  and  his  successor  King  John  for  several 
years.  For  five  centuries  thereafter  it  passed  from 
royalty  to  nobility  and  back  again,  time  after  time,  as 
a  reward  for  services  or  the  spoils  of  war,  until  in  1674 
it  was  granted  by  Charles  II  to  the  ancestor  of  the 
present  Duke  of  Richmond. 

Torquilstone  is  described  as  'a  fortress  of  no  great 
size,  consisting  of  a  donjon,  or  large  and  high  square 
tower,  surrounded  by  buildings  of  inferior  height,  which 
were  encircled  by  an  inner  courtyard.'  It  had  'towers 
upon  the  outward  wall  so  as  to  flank  it  at  every  angle.' 
It  would  appear  from  this  that  the  castle  of  Front-de- 
Boeuf  might  have  been  a  miniature  copy  of  Richmond 
Castle. 

South  of  Richmond  and  about  three  miles  from 
Middleham  are  the  ruins  of  Jorvaulx  Abbey,  the  seat 
of  the  Prior  Aymer,  *a  free  and  jovial  priest,  who  loves 
the  wine-cup  and  the  bugle-horn  better  than  bell  and 
book.'  The  monks  of  Jorvaulx  were  famous  for  their 
love  of  feasting  and  the  excellence  of  their  wines.  The 
Abbey  church  was  originally  an  extensive  structure, 
two  hundred  and  seventy  feet  long,  with  transepts  one 
himdred  and  thirteen  feet  wide.  It  was  roughly  treated 
and  nearly  demolished  during  the  Reformation  and 
neglected  in  the  succeeding  years  until  about  a  century 
ago,  when  the  accumulated  rubbish  was  cleared  away. 
It  now  presents  a  picturesque  appearance  because  of  the 
ivy,  moss,  and  shrubbery  with  which  nature  has  soft- 

242 


IVANHOE 

ened  the  aspect  of  its  rudely  broken  walls  and  the  frag- 
ments of  stone  which  once  were  heavy  columns  support- 
ing a  lofty  nave. 

Still  farther  south  are  the  imposing  ruins  of  Fountains 
Abbey,  which  must  not  be  overlooked  in  any  survey  of 
the  scenery  of  'Ivanhoe,'  for  here  was  the  alleged  abode 
of  that  delightful  character,  the  jolly  Clerk  of  Copman- 
hurst.  Friar  Tuck,  whose  all-night  carousal  with  King 
Richard  in  the  forest  'Chapel  of  St.  Dunstan'  will  be 
ever  memorable  as  one  of  Scott's  choicest  bits  of  hu- 
mour. This  celebrated  'churchman'  was  the  type  of  a 
class  of  so-called  'hedge-priests'  who  flourished  in  the 
period  preceding  the  Reformation,  when  every  great 
house  maintained  a  confessor  to  say  masses  and  grant 
absolution.  The  bands  of  outlaws,  with  equal  supersti- 
tion, felt  the  need  of  the  same  services,  and  maintained 
their  own  priests  accordingly.  Many  of  these  per- 
formed their  holy  offices  in  ragged  and  dirty  attire  and 
with  improper  forms  of  ritual,  for  the  benefit  of  thieves 
and  murderers  in  out-of-the-way  ruins  and  other  hid- 
ing places,  thereby  incurring  the  wrath  of  the  dignitaries 
of  the  Church.  Not  infrequently,  no  doubt,  their 
uncanonical  performances  were  no  better  than  those  of 
Friar  Tuck. 

Fountains  Abbey  is,  next  to  Melrose,  the  most  beauti- 
ful ruin  of  the  kind  in  Great  Britain  —  at  least  so  far  as 
I  have  been  able  to  observe.  In  beauty  of  situation,  it 
far  surpasses  Melrose.  The  latter  is  in  the  midst  of  a 
town  with  nothing  to  make  a  picturesque  setting  except 
its  own  churchyard  and  the  garden  of  an  adjoining 
estate.  Fountains  is  reached  by  walking  nearly  a  mile 
through  the  beautiful  park  of  Studley  Royal,  first  by  the 

243 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

side  of  a  canal,  bordered  by  trees  of  luxuriant  foliage, 
through  which,  at  intervals,  are  various  'peeps,'  reveal- 
ing carefully  studied  scenes,  with  temples,  statuary, 
rustic  bridges,  towers,  lakes,  and  woods;  then  by  a  path 
of  more  natural  beauty,  beside  the  Uttle  rivulet  called 
the  Skell,  until  the  extensive  ruins  are  reached.  The 
foundation  of  Foxmtains  Abbey  has  been  traced  to  the 
year  1132,  according  to  the  narrative  of  a  monk  which 
was  committed  to  writing  in  1205.  In  the  winter  of 
1132-33,  a  small  company  of  Benedictine  monks  from 
St.  Mary's  Abbey  at  York,  becoming  dissatisfied  with 
the  laxity  of  discipline  there,  felt  impelled  to  withdraw. 
They  retired  to  a  wild  and  uncxiltivated  valley,  covered 
with  stones  and  briars,  and  better  suited  for  wild  beasts 
and  reptiles  than  for  humanity,  and  built  a  monastery 
beside  the  brook  Skell.  From  this  humble  beginning, 
Foimtains  Abbey  grew  until  the  estabUshment  became 
one  of  the  richest  in  England,  comprising  sixty-four 
thousand  acres  of  valuable  lands  and  its  buildings, 
covering  an  area  of  twelve  acres,  were  among  the  most 
magnificent.  In  1539,  King  Henry  VIII  confiscated  the 
entire  property,  and  rendered  the  monastery  unfit  for 
further  use. 

The  ruins  are  more  complete  than  those  of  any  other 
similar  structure,  and  give  an  excellent  idea  of  the  ex- 
tent and  arrangement  of  an  important  monastery.  From 
the  Chapel  of  the  Nine  Altars  to  the  west  doorway, 
which  was  the  chief  entrance,  is  a  distance  of  three  hun- 
dred and  sixty-nine  feet.  It  is  an  impressive  architect- 
ural vista,  the  eye  sweeping  over  the  choir  and  tran- 
septs and  down  through  the  narrow  nave,  where  the  walls 
are  supported  by  eleven  obtuse  pointed  arches,  springing 

244 


IVANHOE 

from  massive  columns,  each  sixteen  feet  in  circumfer- 
ence and  twenty-three  feet  high.  The  Chapel  of  the 
Nine  Altars,  considered  to  have  been  the  most  magnifi- 
cent architectural  feature  of  the  structure,  is  divided 
into  three  parts  by  a  series  of  very  high  pointed  arches, 
supported  by  slender  octagonal  piUars  scarcely  two 
feet  in  diameter.  A  great  east  window,  sixty  feet  high 
and  twenty-three  feet  wide,  completed  the  dignity  and 
beauty  of  the  chapel.  From  the  exterior,  the  most  strik- 
ing feature  is  the  tower,  rising  one  hundred  and  sixty- 
eight  feet  high,  with  walls  nearly  thirty  feet  square,  and 
projecting  buttresses,  adding  an  effect  of  great  solidity. 
The  connection  of  Friar  Tuck  with  this  fine  abbey  is 
derived  from  the  ancient  ballad  of  'Robin  Hood  and 
the  Curtal  Friar.'  The  outlaws  were  indulging  in  an 
exhibition  of  their  wonderful  archery  when  an  unusually 
fine  shot  caused  Robin  Hood  to  exclaim:  — 

I  wovdd  ride  my  horse  an  hundred  miles 
To  finde  one  could  match  with  thee. 

This  brought  a  laugh  from  Will  Scarlet,  who  declared: — 

There  lives  a  curtal  frier  in  Fountains  Abby 
Will  beat  both  him  and  thee. 

Robin  Hood  could  not  rest  until  he  found  the  friar, 
walking  by  the  waterside  near  the  abbey.  A  conflict  fol- 
lowed in  which  the  friar  threw  Robin  into  the  stream. 
After  Robin  had  shot  all  his  arrows  at  the  friar  without 
effect,  — 

They  took  their  swords  and  steel  bucklers 

And  fought  with  might  and  maine; 

From  ten  oth'  clock  that  day, 
Till  four  ith'  afternoon. 

245 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

Then  Robin  blew  three  blasts  of  his  horn  and  called 
half  a  hundred  yeomen.  The  friar  whistled  with  fist  in 
his  mouth  and  half  a  hundred  ban-dogs  answered.  The 
end  of  the  battle  proved  the  stout  friar  well  qualified  to 
join  the  band  of  merry  men. 

This  curtal  frier  had  kept  Fountains  Dale 
Seven  long  years  or  more; 
There  was  neither  knight,  lord,  nor  earl 
Could  make  him  yield  before. 

An  arched  recess,  of  stone,  well  covered  with  foliage,  by 
the  side  of  the  path  along  the  river,  marks  the  tradi- 
tional site  of  this  famous  combat,  and  is  known  as 
'Robin  Hood's  Well.'  The  following  lines  were  written 
by  Sir  Walter  while  a  guest  at  Studley  Royal,  and  the 
manuscript  is  now  in  the  possession  of  the  Marquess  of 
Ripen:  — 

Beside  this  crystal  font  of  old. 
Cooled  his  flushed  brow  an  outlaw  bold, 
His  bow  was  slackened  while  he  drank, 
His  quiver  rested  on  the  bank. 
Giving  brief  pause  of  doubt  and  fear 
To  feudal  lords  and  forest  deer. 

Long  runs  the  tale,  but  village  sires 
Still  sing  his  feats  by  Christmas  fires; 
And  still  old  England's  free-bom  blood 
Stirs  at  the  name  of  Robin  Hood. 

After  the  fall  of  Torquilstone  and  the  almost  miracu- 
lous deliverance  of  all  the  prisoners,  Cedric  and  his  com- 
pany journeyed  to  the  Castle  of  Coningsburgh,  the  seat 
of  Athelstane,  to  perform  the  fimeral  rites  of  that  noble 
warrior,  who  had  fallen  a  victim  to  the  Templar's  battle- 
axe.  Athelstane  interrupts  the  proceedings,  somewhat 


IVANHOE 

unnecessarily  it  would  seem,  by  coming  to  life  again.  A 
visit  to  this  castle  takes  us  back  to  the  valley  of  the 
Don,  where  the  story  began.  Conisborough,  as  the  vil- 
lage is  now  called,  is  situated  about  midway  between 
Rotherham  and  Doncaster.  There  is  nothing  fanciful 
in  Scott's  description  here.  He  introduced  the  castle 
because  it  interested  him,  and  made  it  the  seat  of 
Athelstane  for  convenience.  In  a  letter  to  his  friend 
Morritt  in  1811  Scott  inquires,  'Do  you  know  anything 
of  a  striking  ancient  castle  .  .  .  called  Coningsburgh?  .  .  . 
I  once  flew  past  it  in  a  mail-coach  when  its  round  tower 
and  flying  buttresses  had  a  most  romantic  effect  in  the 
morning  dawn.' 

It  was  characteristic  of  Scott,  not  only  that  every  old 
ruined  castle  appealed  to  his  imagination,  but  that  his 
curiosity,  once  aroused,  usually  had  to  be  satisfied  by  a 
personal  inspection.  It  was  so  with  Coningsburgh.  He 
went  to  the  village  and  spent  two  nights  at  the  Sprot- 
brough  Boathouse,  a  near-by  inn,  that  he  might  have 
leisure  to  examine  the  ruins  of  the  castle.  The  result  of 
his  study  and  the  further  reading  of  such  antiquarian 
authorities  as  were  available,  convinced  him  that  the 
round  tower  was  an  ancient  Saxon  castle.  He  found 
satisfaction  in  comparing  it  with  the  rude  towers,  or 
burghs,  built  by  the  Saxons  or  Northmen,  of  which  one 
of  the  most  striking  examples  is  the  Castle  of  Mousa  ^  in 
the  Shetland  Islands.  These  were  built  of  rough  stone, 
without  cement.  They  were  roofless,  and  had  small 
apartments  constructed  within  the  circular  walls  them- 
selves. In  this  last  respect  Coningsburgh  somewhat 
resembles  these  ancient  burghs,  and  Scott  conceived 
1  See  Chapter  xxi,  'The  Pirate,'  p.  300. 
347 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

that  the  former  was  an  evolution  from  the  latter,  and 
therefore  Saxon.  He  says,  'the  outer  walls  have  prob- 
ably been  added  by  the  Normans,  but  the  inner  keep 
bears  token  of  very  great  antiquity,'  He  also  says: 
'When  Coeur-de-Lion  and  his  retinue  approached  this 
rude  yet  stately  building,  it  was  not,  as  at  present,  sur- 
rounded by  external  fortifications.  The  Saxon  architect 
had  exhausted  his  art  in  rendering  the  main  keep  defen- 
sible, and  there  was  no  other  circumvallation  than  a  rude 
barrier  of  palisades.' 

The  facts,  as  indicated  by  more  recent  investigation, 
seem  to  be  that  the  Saxons  selected  the  hill  of  hard  lime- 
stone as  a  suitable  place  for  a  stronghold,  excavated  a 
ditch  around  it  and  erected  some  outworks.  There  is 
no  doubt  that  Harold,  the  last  of  the  Anglo-Saxon 
kings,  either  purchased  or  inherited  the  property,  and 
there  is  mention  of  a  certain  'lord  of  Coningesboro,' 
who  possessed  part  of  the  domain  as  early  as  the  year 

lOOO  A.D. 

William  the  Conqueror,  shortly  after  his  accession  to 
the  English  throne,  granted  the  estate  to  an  adherent, 
William  de  Warrenne,  who  was  created  Earl  of  Surrey. 
A  great-granddaughter  of  this  earl  married  Hameline 
Plantagenet,  a  half-brother  of  Henry  H,  and  he  was  one 
of  the  soldiers  and  faithful  attendants  of  Richard  I.  It 
is  this  earl  who  is  supposed  to  have  built  the  tower,  or 
keep,  at  least  a  centiuy  after  his  Norman  predecessors 
had  erected  the  outer  walls  of  the  castle.  This,  it  will  be 
noted,  is  exactly  the  reverse  of  Scott's  supposition. 

The  Saxon  foimders  selected  a  steep  hill,  or  knoll, 
rising  one  hundred  and  seventy-five  feet  above  the  river 
—  an  ideal  site  for  a  fortress  in  those  days. 

248 


IVANHOE 

Earl  Warren,  who  came  into  possession  about  1068, 
found  the  place  already  well  fortified.  His  son  and 
grandson  were  the  ones  who,  it  is  supposed,  constructed 
the  outer  walls,  with  their  various  buildings  for  domes- 
tic purposes,  comprising  a  hall,  kitchen,  chapel,  etc. 
These  cover  a  large  area,  but  present  no  features  of 
extraordinary  interest.  The  inner  tower,  or  keep,  how- 
ever, is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  structures  in  Eng- 
land. It  is  a  huge  cylindrical  tower  built  of  grey  lime- 
stone on  a  base  of  solid  natural  rock.  It  formerly  rose 
to  a  height  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  feet,  and  is  now 
about  ninety  feet  high.  It  is  sixty-six  feet  in  diameter 
at  the  base,  and  is  supported  by  six  massive  buttresses, 
each  fifteen  and  one  half  feet  broad  and  extending  out- 
ward about  nine  feet.  The  walls  themselves  are  nearly 
fifteen  feet  in  thickness.  The  only  entrance  is  a  door, 
twenty  feet  above  the  ground,  originally  reached  by  an 
outside  stair  connecting  with  a  small  drawbridge. 

The  rooms  beneath  the  main  floor  were  used  for  the 
storage  of  provisions  and  in  the  centre  was  a  well,  said 
to  have  been  one  hundred  and  five  feet  deep.  There  was 
then  ample  provision  to  resist  a  siege,  lack  of  food  and 
water  being  the  only  danger  to  be  feared,  inasmuch  as 
the  catapults  and  other  engines  of  war  of  that  period 
would  be  powerless  against  the  massiveness  of  such  a 
castle.  The  upper  rooms  are  built  within  the  walls  and 
reached  by  narrow  stairways.  The  main  floor  was  pro- 
bably used  by  the  lord  of  the  castle  with  his  family  and 
guests;  the  rooms  above  were  occupied  by  the  ladies  of 
the  household,  and  on  the  same  floor  was  a  small  oratory 
or  chapel,  hexagonal  in  shape  and  about  eight  feet  wide. 
The  top  floor  contained  the  kitchen  and  the  sleeping- 

249 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

rooms  of  the  garrison.  The  six  buttresses  projected 
above  the  level  of  the  parapet,  forming  turrets,  con- 
venient for  defence.  These  have  now  disappeared.  The 
parapet  floor  is  still  accessible,  and  from  it  a  fine  view  is 
obtained  of  the  surrounding  country. 

The  Castle  of  York,  where  Prince  John  is  supposed  to 
have  feasted  the  nobles  and  leaders  after  the  exciting 
scenes  of  Torquilstone,  and  where  De  Bracy  announced 
to  him  that  Richard  was  really  in  England,  was  the 
Norman  fortress  built  by  William  the  Conqueror  in 
1068,  some  portions  of  which  are  now  incorporated  in 
the  building  known  as  Clififord's  Tower.  A  substantial 
rectangular  structure  stands  between  two  ancient  and 
ruined  turrets,  which  lean  outward,  looking  as  though 
the  stronger  building  were  trying  to  usurp  the  hill  on 
which  they  stand  and  push  his  feebler  brethren  out  of 
the  way.  This  castle  was  the  scene  in  11 90  of  a  terrible 
massacre  of  the  Jews.  Two  rich  Jewish  bankers,  Joses 
and  Benedict,  attended  the  coronation  of  Richard  I. 
In  a  general  attack  upon  the  Jews,  Benedict  was  killed, 
but  Joses  got  back  to  York.  The  house  of  Benedict  in 
York  was  plundered  and  his  wife  and  children  mur- 
dered. Joses  rallied  the  other  Jews,  who  took  refuge, 
with  their  property,  in  the  castle.  The  governor  ordered 
an  assault,  and  the  Jews,  finding  themselves  imable  to 
hold  the  citadel,  set  fire  to  the  buildings,  put  to  death 
all  their  relatives,  and  killed  themselves,  over  five 
hundred  lives  being  sacrificed.  This  incident  throws 
some  hght  upon  the  state  of  mind  of  the  wealthy  Isaac, 
who  was  a  resident  of  the  city  of  York. 

'Ivanhoe'  closes  with  the  wedding  of  Wilfred  and 
Rowena,  'celebrated  in  the  most  august  of  temples,  the 

250 


IVANHOE 

noble  minster  of  York.'  The  cathedral  as  it  stands 
to-day  is,  indeed,  noble.  Perhaps  it  cannot  properly  be 
called  the  largest  in  England;  Winchester  Cathedral  is 
longer,  and  Lincoln's  towers  are  higher;  but  in  the  length 
of  its  choir  and  nave,  the  breadth  of  its  transepts,  the 
height  of  the  great  pointed  arches  supporting  the  roof, 
and  the  massive  grandeur  and  dignity  of  the  whole, 
whether  viewed  from  the  exterior  or  the  interior,  it  is 
unsurpassed  by  any  other  cathedral  in  England  and  by 
few  on  the  continent. 

It  was  not  in  this  magnificent  temple,  however,  that 
the  wedding  took  place,  and  perhaps  if  we  could  see  a 
picture  of  the  old  Norman  church  which  stood  on  the 
site  in  1194,  we  might  not  think  of  it  as  'a  noble  min- 
ster.' The  church  of  that  period  was  the  structure 
built  by  the  first  Norman  Archbishop  of  York,  with  the 
addition  of  the  choir,  erected  a  century  later.  In  the 
crypt  of  the  present  cathedral  some  bits  of  the  walls  of 
these  early  buildings  are  still  preserved.  They  replaced . 
the  first  stone  church,  built  about  633,  which  had  super- 
seded the  original  wooden  church,  built  by  Eadwine, 
King  of  Northumbria,  then  the  most  powerful  monarch 
in  England.  The  minster  was,  therefore,  more  than  five 
centuries  old  even  in  the  period  of  'Ivanhoe.' 

Of  the  characters  in  the  novel.  King  Richard  and  his 
brother  John  were  of  course  historical.  Cedric  and 
Athelstane  were  types  of  the  Saxon  nobles  who  still 
resented  the  intrusion  of  the  Normans.  Front-de-Bceuf 
represents  a  class  of  Norman  noblemen  who  did  not 
hesitate  at  any  deed  of  villainy  to  accomplish  their 
selfish  purposes.  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert  typifies  the 
chivalry  which  professed  great  zeal  for  the  Christian 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

religion,  but  used  it  as  a  cloak  to  cover  motives  of  ven- 
geance or  other  base  purposes.  Prior  Aymer  stands  for 
the  wealthy  churchman  and  Isaac  of  York  for  the  Jew- 
ish banker,  upon  whom  all  classes,  kings,  barons,  and 
churchmen,  were  obliged  to  depend  for  the  accomplish- 
ment of  their  various  plans.  Robin  Hood,  Friar  Tuck, 
and  the  men  in  Lincoln  Green  were  borrowed  from  the 
ballad  poetry  of  the  Middle  Ages.  All  of  these  were 
introduced  to  perfect  the  picture  of  the  conditions  of 
social  and  political  life  in  the  reign  of  King  Richard. 

One  character  only  found  a  place  in  the  novel  for  an- 
other reason.  The  story  of  Rebecca  reveals  an  interest- 
ing incident  in  the  life  of  Washington  Irving.  When 
the  American  author  visited  Sir  Walter  at  Abbotsford 
a  feeling  of  mutual  respect  and  admiration  quickly 
sprang  up  between  them  and  developed  into  a  friendly 
intimacy.  In  the  course  of  their  conversations,  Irving 
told  Sir  Walter  something  of  the  character  of  Rebecca 
Gratz,  a  yoimg  woman  of  Jewish  family,  living  in  the 
city  of  Philadelphia.  One  of  this  lady's  brothers  was 
a  warm  personal  friend  of  Irving's,  who  was  always  a 
welcome  guest  at  their  home.  One  of  Rebecca's  dearest 
friends  was  Matilda  Hofifman,  Irving's  first  and  only 
love.  This  estimable  yoimg  woman  died  at  the  early 
age  of  eighteen,  tenderly  nursed  to  the  end  by  her  friend 
Rebecca,  in  whose  arms  she  expired. 

Rebecca  Gratz  is  described  as  a  very  beautiful  girl. 
'Her  eyes  were  of  exquisite  shape,  large,  black,  and  lus- 
trous; her  figure  was  graceful  and  her  carriage  was 
marked  by  a  quiet  dignity,  —  attractions  which  were 
heightened  by  elegant  and  winning  manners.  Gentle, 
benevolent,   with  instinctive   refinement  and   innate 

252 


IVANHOE 

purity,  she  inspired  affection  among  all  who  met  her.  *  * 
Although  a  Jewess,  Rebecca  Gratz  found  many  com- 
panions among  the  Christians  by  whom  she  was  held  in 
high  esteem.  She  was  interested  in  all  kinds  of  bene- 
volent work,  founded  an  orphan  asylum  and  a  mission 
Sabbath-School  for  Hebrew  children,  and  contributed  to 
many  charities. 

A  Christian  gentleman  of  wealth  and  high  social 
position  fell  in  love  with  her  and  his  feehngs  were 
reciprocated.  But  Rebecca  conceived  that  duty  de- 
manded loyalty  to  her  rehgion,  and  her  lofty  con- 
scientiousness and  remarkable  moral  courage  enabled 
her  to  maintain  her  resolution.  She  refused  to  marry,  in 
spite  of  the  pain  to  herself  and  the  bitter  disappoint- 
ment to  her  lover  which  the  self-denial  involved.  Her 
life  was  devoted  to  'a  long  chain  of  golden  deeds,'  until 
the  end  came  at  the  good  old  age  of  eighty-eight. 

Such  a  story  could  not  fail  to  capture  the  sympathetic 
heart  of  Sir  Walter,  and  as  usual  when  anything 
appealed  strongly  to  him,  he  wove  it  into  a  novel  at  the 
earliest  opportunity,  later  writing  to  Irving,  'How  do 
you  Uke  your  Rebecca?  Does  the  picture  I  have 
painted  compare  well  with  the  pattern  given? ' 

'Ivanhoe'  marks  the  high-tide  of  Scott's  literary 
success.  The  book  instantly  caught  the  attention  of 
thousands  to  whom  the  Scottish  romances  had  not 
appealed.  It  sold  better  than  its  predecessors,  and 
from  the  day  of  its  publication  has  been  easily  the  most 
popular  of  the  Waverley  Novels.  Lockhart,  who,  in 
common  with  most  Scotchmen,  could  not  help  prefer- 

1  From  an  article  by  Gratz  van  Rensselaer,  in  the  Century  Magazine, 
September,  1882. 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

ring  the  tales  of  his  native  land  and  thought  'Waver- 
ley,'  'Guy  Mannering,'  and  'The  Heart  of  Midlothian' 
superior  as  'works  of  genius/  nevertheless  gave 
'Ivanhoe'  the  first  place  among  all  Scott's  writings, 
whether  in  prose  or  verse,  as  a  'work  of  art.'  Its  his- 
torical value  is  perhaps  greater  than  that  of  any  of  the 
others,  and  certainly  no  other  author  has  ever  given 
a  picture,  so  graphic  and  yet  so  comprehensible,  of 
*merrie  England'  in  the  days  of  chivalry. 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

THE    MONASTERY 

Scott  had  some  strange  ways  of  seeking  relaxation  from 
the  strain  of  his  work.  On  Christmas  Day,  1814,  he 
wrote  Constable  that  he  was  'setting  out  for  Abbotsford 
to  refresh  the  machine.'  During  the  year  he  had  written 
his  first  great  novel,  'Waverley';  one  of  his  longer 
poems,  'The  Lord  of  the  Isles';  nearly  the  whole  of  his 
'Life  of  Swift';  two  essays  for  an  encyclopaedia;  a  two- 
volume  family  memoir  for  a  friend;  and  kept  up  a 
voluminous  personal  correspondence,  —  an  amount  of 
industry  which  is  best  described  by  Dominie  Sampson's 
word,  prodigious.  Surely  the  'machine'  needed  'refresh- 
ment,' and  it  consisted  in  producing,  in  six  weeks'  time, 
another  great  novel,  'Guy  Mannering'!  In  the  same 
way,  while  dictating  'Ivanhoe,'  in  spite  of  severe  bodily 
pain  which  prevented  the  use  of  his  pen,  he  sought 
refreshment  by  starting  another  novel,  'The  Monas- 
tery.' 'It  was  a  relief,'  he  said,  'to  interlay  the  scenery 
most  familiar  to  me  with  the  strange  world  for  which  I 
had  to  draw  so  much  on  imagination.' 

'The  Monastery'  was  the  first  of  Scott's  novels  in 
which  the  scenery  is  confined  to  the  immediate  vicinity 
of  his  own  home.  It  is  all  within  walking  distance  of 
Abbotsford  and  much  of  it  had  been  familiar  to  the 
author  from  childhood.  Melrose,  or  Kennaquhair,  is 
only  about  two  miles  away.  This  little  village  is  as 
ancient  as  the  abbey  from  which  it  takes  its  name,  and 

255 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

that  splendid  ruin  dates  from  1136,  when  the  pious 
Scottish  king,  known  as  St.  David,  founded  the  monas- 
tery and  granted  extensive  lands  to  the  Cistercian 
Order  of  Monks  for  its  maintenance.  The  village  has 
followed  the  fortunes  of  the  abbey  —  prospering  when 
the  monks  prospered,  and  suffering  the  bhght  of  war 
whenever  the  English  kings  descended  upon  it.  Its 
present  prosperity,  so  far  as  it  has  any,  is  the  gift  of  Sir 
Walter  Scott.  Hawthorne,  who  rambled  through  the 
coxmtry  in  1856,  noted  in  his  journal  that  'Scotland  — 
cold,  cloudy,  barren  Uttle  bit  of  earth  that  it  is  —  owes 
all  the  interest  that  the  world  feels  in  it  to  him.'  I  can- 
not endorse  this  view  of  Scotland,  for  it  left  quite  the 
opposite  impression  upon  my  mind,  but  the  last  part  of 
the  remark  is  certainly  true  of  Melrose.  It  bears  about 
the  same  relation  to  Scotland  that  Stratford  does  to 
England.  Thousands  go  there  every  year  to  see  the 
work  of  art,  glorious  even  in  ruins,  which  represents  the 
highest  development  of  the  Gothic  architecture  and  to 
marvel  at  the  rich  carvings  in  stone  which,  after  the 
lapse  of  nearly  six  hundred  years,  still  remain  as  a 
monimient  to  the  patience,  skill,  and  devotion  of  the 
monks  of  St.  Mary's.  But  they  go  because  the  great 
Wizard  of  the  North  has  thrown  the  glamour  of  his 
genius  over  the  whole  of  the  Border  country,  of  which 
Melrose  is  the  natural  centre.  And  when  they  arrive, 
they  find  the  abbey  interpreted  in  the  words  of  'The 
Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel,'  which  the  custodians  of  the 
ruin,  for  fourscore  years,  have  never  tired  of  quoting. 

In  the  novel,  no  attempt  is  made  to  describe  the 
beauty  of  the  ruin.  The  poem  had  already  done  that  to 
perfection.   But  the  monks  spring  into  life  again,  the 

256 


THE  MONASTERY 

venerable  ruin  is  transformed  into  a  church,  the  monas- 
tic buildings  resume  their  former  shape,  and  the  palace 
of  their  ruler  is  refurnished  in  all  its  original  magnifi- 
cence. A  fire  of  glowing  logs  gives  warmth  to  the  apart- 
ments. An  oaken  stand,  with  a  roasted  capon  and  *a 
goodly  stoup  of  Bourdeaux  of  excellent  flavour,'  sug- 
gests the  truth  of  the  old  rhyme:  — 

The  monks  of  Melrose  made  fat  kail 

On  Fridays  when  they  fasted, 
Nor  wanted  they  gude  beef  and  ale 

So  lang's  their  neighbours'  lasted. 

In  a  richly  carved  chair  before  the  fire  sits  a  portly 
abbot,  with  round  face,  rosy  cheeks,  and  good-natured, 
laughing  eyes,  the  product  of  a  long  life  of  good  feeding 
and  indolent  ease.  By  his  side  stands  the  sub-prior,  a 
cadaverous,  sharp-faced  little  man,  with  piercing  grey 
eyes  bespeaking  a  high  order  of  intellect,  his  emaciated 
features  testifying  to  rigid  fastings  and  relentless  self- 
abasement.  The  abuse  of  the  monastic  privileges, 
common  enough  at  the  time,  is  thus  contrasted  with  the 
conscientious  observance  of  all  the  rules  of  the  order.  In 
and  out  of  the  cloisters,  the  refectory,  and  the  palace, 
monks  in  black  gowns  and  white  scapularies  are  con- 
tinually passing.  The  old  ruin  has  been  restored  by  the 
genius  of  the  novelist  to  the  life  and  activity  of  the  six- 
teenth century. 

The  earliest  date  referred  to  in  the  story  is  1547,  the 
year  of  the  battle  of  Pinkie,  when  the  Scottish  forces 
met  with  a  disaster  exceeded  only  by  Flodden  Field.  In 
this  battle  Simon  Glendinning,  a  soldier  fighting  for  the 
'Halidome'  of  St.  Mary's,  met  his  death.  His  son 
Halbert  was  then  nine  or  ten  years  old.  The  story  comes 

257 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

to  a  close  when  he  is  nineteen,  which  would  be  1557. 
The  hostility  of  Henry  VIII  had  caused  great  anxiety  to 
the  abbots  of  Melrose  long  before  this  time  and  the  per- 
secution reached  a  climax  in  1545.  Sir  Ralph  Ewers  and 
Sir  Brian  Latoun  systematically  ravaged  the  Scottish 
Border,  burning  hundreds  of  towns,  castles,  and 
churches,  slaughtering  and  imprisoning  the  people  by 
the  thousands  and  driving  off  their  cattle  and  horses.  In 
the  course  of  their  raids,  they  reached  Melrose  with  a 
force  of  five  thousand  men  and  vented  their  spite  on  the 
beautiful  old  abbey.  The  Scots  took  prompt  vengeance. 
They  quickly  raised  an  army,  and  under  the  leadership 
of  Sir  Walter  Scott  of  Buccleuch,  met  the  English  and 
defeated  them  with  heavy  losses.  Both  Ewers  and 
Latoun  were  among  the  slain,  and  the  monks  of  Mel- 
rose buried  them  in  the  abbey  with  great  satisfaction. 
'The  Monastery'  does  not  refer  to  this  event,  but  its 
graphic  picture  of  the  unsettled  state  of  the  country 
and  the  consequent  anxiety  of  the  monks  constitutes 
its  chief  value. 

North  of  the  abbey  and  across  the  Tweed  is  a  green 
hillside,  at  the  base  of  which  is  a  weir  or  dam.  This  is 
the  place  where  the  sacristan  of  St.  Mary's  was  pitched 
out  of  his  saddle  into  the  stream  by  the  *  White  Lady  of 
Avenel,'  who  dipped  him  in  the  water  two  or  three  times 
to  make  sure  that  'every  part  of  him  had  its  share  of 
wetting.' 

The  old  bridge,  which  the  sacristan  was  prevented 
from  crossing  by  the  perversity  of  old  Peter,  the  bridge- 
tender,  was  about  a  mile  and  a  half  up  the  stream. 
Such  a  bridge  once  existed,  though  now  there  are  no 
traces  visible.  Scott  used  to  see  the  foimdations  occa- 

«58 


THE  MONASTERY 

sionally  when  drifting  down  the  river  at  night  in  pursuit 
of  one  of  his  favourite  pastimes,  spearing  salmon  by 
torchlight.  There  were  three  towers  in  the  water.  A 
keeper  lived  in  the  middle  one  and  controlled  the  trafl&c 
by  raising  or  lowering  the  draws  at  his  pleasure.  Those 
who  refused  to  pay  his  price,  or  whom  he  did  not  wish 
to  accommodate,  might  ford  the  stream,  but  at  some 
stages  of  the  water  this  was  a  perilous  operation. 

The  river  Allan  flows  into  the  Tweed  near  the  site  of 
this  bridge.  It  is  a  little  mountain  brook  that  flows,  in 
serpentine  course,  through  the  valley  of  Glendearg.  A 
mile  or  so  up  the  rivulet  there  is  a  picturesque  and  shady 
glen  called  Fairy  Dean.  After  a  flood,  little  pieces  of 
curious  stones,  in  fantastic  shapes,  are  often  found,  the 
play  of  the  waters  having  transformed  the  fragments  of 
rock  into  fairy  cups  and  saucers,  guns,  boats,  cradles,  or 
whatever  a  childish  imagination  might  suggest.  This 
was  the  abode  of  the  fairies  where  the  little  elfin  folk 
held  their  nightly  carnivals,  and  who  knows  but  Queen 
Titania  herself  might  have  held  her  moonlight  revels 
upon  this  very  spot?  At  any  rate,  the  neighbouring 
people,  for  centuries,  by  common  consent,  recognized 
the  feudal  rights  of  the  fairy  race  to  this  Uttle  dell,  and 
left  them  undisturbed.  It  must  have  been  the  abode  of 
the  White  Lady,  and  no  doubt  stood  in  the  author's 
mind  for  the  secluded  glen  which  he  calls,  in  Celtic, 
Corrie  nan  Shian,  meaning  *  Hollow  of  the  Fairies,'  where 
Halbert  Glendinning  found  the  huge  rock,  the  wild 
holly  tree,  and  the  spring  beneath  its  branches.  Here, 
doubtless,  for  no  more  appropriate  spot  can  be  found, 
Halbert  summoned  the  mystic  maiden  with  the 
words:  — 

2S9 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

Thrice  to  the  holly  brake  — 

Thrice  to  the  well:  — 
I  bid  thee  awake, 

White  Maid  of  Avenel! 

Noon  gleams  in  the  Lake  — 
Noon  glows  on  the  Fell  — 

Wake  thee,  O  wake, 
White  Maid  of  Avenel! 


At  the  head  of  the  glen  there  are  three  mined  peel- 
houses  or  Border  towers,  known  as  Hillslap,  Colmslie, 
and  Langshaw.  The  first  of  these  may  fairly  stand  for 
the  original  of  Glendearg,  the  home  of  the  Glendinnings. 
This  old  tower  has  a  sculptured  date  on  the  lintel  of  the 
entrance  which  seems  to  indicate  that  it  was  built  in 
1585  —  a  little  too  late  for  the  story,  to  be  sure,  but 
trifles  like  that  never  worried  Sir  Walter.  He  wanted 
to  place  the  Widow  Glendinning  and  her  two  children 
in  a  tower  suited  to  the  ancient  family  connexions  of 
her  husband  who  might  have  been  able  to  defend  his 
secluded  retreat  against  all  comers  for  many  years, 
had  not  the  necessities  of  the  time  required  his  service 
in  the  wars  for  the  defence  of  his  coimtry.  Hillslap 
offered  an  excellent  type  of  such  a  Border  fortalice,  and 
its  situation  at  the  head  of  the  glen,  well  protected  by  the 
surroimding  mountains  and  isolated  by  its  remoteness 
from  the  ordinary  lines  of  travel,  made  it  suitable  for 
the  purposes  of  the  tale. 

Referring  to  the  castle  of  Julian  Avenel,  Scott,  in  a 
footnote,  remarks  that  it  is  vain  to  search  near  Melrose 
for  any  such  castle,  but  adds  that  in  Yetholm  Loch,  a 
small  sheet  of  water  southeast  of  Kelso,  there  is  a  small 
castle  on  an  island,  connected  with  the  mainland  by  a 

360 


THE  MONASTERY 

causeway,  but  it  is  much  smaller  than  Avenel.  Of 
course  we  must  take  the  author's  word  for  this,  and 
yet,  whether  he  did  it  with  conscious  purpose  or  not,  he 
succeeded  in  putting  into  his  description  some  features 
which  irresistibly  suggest  a  castle  only  seven  miles  from 
Melrose,  the  tower  of  Smailholm,  associated  with  the 
dearest  memories  of  his  childhood. 

Smailholm  is  one  of  the  most  perfect  examples  of  the 
old  feudal  keeps  to  be  found  in  Scotland.  A  very  small 
pool  lies  on  one  side  of  the  tower,  but  it  is  suggestive  of 
the  loch  which  once  surrounded  the  entire  castle,  mak- 
ing it  a  retreat  of  great  security.  'The  surprise  of  the 
spectator  was  chiefly  excited  by  finding  a  piece  of  water 
situated  in  that  high  and  mountainous  region,  and  the 
landscape  around  had  features  which  might  rather  be 
termed  wild,  than  either  romantic  or  sublime.'  It  was  a 
surprise  to  me  to  find  even  a  small  pool  of  water  in  such 
a  locality,  and  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  at  least  some 
recollections  of  the  pecuhar  situation  of  Smailholm  may 
have  been  in  the  author's  mind  when  he  wrote  this 
description. 

Scott  has  himself  mentioned  a  prototype  of  the  vul- 
gar, brutal,  and  licentious  Julian  Avenel  in  the  person 
of  the  Laird  of  Black  Ormiston,  a  friend  and  confidant 
of  Bothwell  and  one  of  the  agents  in  the  murder  of 
Darnley. 

The  concluding  scene  of  the  novel  represents  a  sor- 
rowful procession  of  monks,  in  long  black  gowns  and 
cowls,  marching  solemnly  to  the  market-place  of  the 
town,  where  they  formed  a  circle  around  'an  ancient 
cross  of  curious  workmanship,  the  gift  of  some  former 
monarch  of  Scotland.'  This  old  Mercat  Cross  still  stands 

261 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

in  the  centre  of  the  market-place  of  Melrose.  It  is  about 
twenty  feet  high  and  is  surmounted  by  the  figure  of  the 
unicorn  and  the  arms  of  Scotland.  It  requires  a  vivid 
imagination  to  identify  the  unicorn,  however,  the  rav- 
ages of  time  giving  it  more  the  aspect  of  a  walrus, 
rampant. 

'The  Monastery,'  following  so  soon  after  Scott's 
greatest  success,  suffers  severely  by  comparison  with 
'Ivanhoe,'  and,  perhaps  for  this  reason,  was  considered 
something  of  a  failure.  The  cause,  generally  assigned 
by  the  critics,  was  twofold,  or  rather,  may  be  attributed 
to  two  characters,  which  did  not  appeal  to  the  public  as 
Scott  had  expected.  One  of  these  was  the  '  White  Lady 
of  Avenel '  and  the  other.  Sir  Piercie  Shaf ton. 

Scott  had  always  manifested  a  fondness  for  ghosts, 
goblins,  witches,  and  the  supernatural.  The  goblin-page 
made  a  nuisance  of  himself  in '  The  Lay  of  the  Last  Min- 
strel '  and  came  near  spoiUng  the  poem ;  Marmion  had  to 
fight  a  phantom  knight,  and  so  did  Bertram  Risingham, 
but  in  both  cases  a  rational  explanation  dispelled  the 
mystery;  the  Baron  of  Triermain  visited  a  phantom  cas- 
tle in  the  Valley  of  St.  John;  Bruce  landed  on  the  shores 
of  Carrick,  guided  by  a  weird  supernatural  light;  Fergus 
Maclvor  was  dismayed  by  the  Bodach  Glas,  a  cheerful 
sort  of  family  ghost  which  always  appeared  when  dis- 
aster was  impending;  the  guest  of  the  Antiquary  was 
compelled  to  sleep  in  a  haunted  chamber;  a  mysterious 
fountain  had  a  fatal  influence  upon  the  life  of  the  Bride 
of  Lammermoor;  and  so  throughout  the  pages  of  Scott's 
poems  and  novels  we  find  these  strange  incidents  and 
phantom  appearances.  The  real  orthodox  ghost  only 
peeps  in  at  you  occasionally  and  quickly  vanishes. 

36a 


THE  MONASTERY 

Although  you  may  be  frightened  a  little,  you  delight, 
nevertheless,  in  the  mystery.  But  there  is  something  too 
substantial  about  a  female  ghost  who  climbs  up  behind 
a  man  on  horseback,  guides  him  into  a  stream  of  deep 
water,  and  ducks  him  three  times,  meanwhile  reciting 
long  stanzas  of  poetry.  And  when  the  same  ghost 
appears  again  and  again,  as  though  the  whole  plot 
depended  upon  her  personal  exertions,  the  constant 
exposure  to  the  limelight  causes  the  illusion  to  melt 
away.  This,  I  fancy,  is  the  reason  the  Maid  of  Avenel 
failed  to  appeal  to  Scott's  readers. 

Sir  Piercie  Shafton,  the  Euphuist,  seems  in  like 
manner  to  have  been  overdone.  A  suggestion  of  the 
foppery  and  absurdities  of  the  coxcombs  of  Queen 
Elizabeth's  court  might  have  been  interesting,  but  Sir 
Piercie  remains  on  the  stage  too  long  and  becomes  a 
bore.  The  pedantic  Baron  of  Bradwardine  in  'Waver- 
ley'  is  a  bore,  but  we  like  him.  The  garrulous  Dalgetty 
is  tiresome,  but  we  could  not  do  without  him.  Sir 
Piercie,  on  the  dontrary,  has  no  redeeming  traits. 

Aside  from  the  failure  of  these  two  characters  to 
please  the  public,  the  novel  lacks  the  interest  that 
attaches  to  all  its  predecessors.  There  is  no  Dandie 
Dinmont,  nor  Meg  Merrilies,  nor  Dominie  Sampson;  no 
Jonathan  Oldbuck  nor  Edie  Ochiltree;  no  historical  per- 
sonage of  interest  like  Rob  Roy  or  King  Richard;  no 
Jeanie  Deans;  no  Flora  Maclvor;  no  Die  Vernon;  no 
Rebecca. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  has  some  fine  pictures  of  the 
sturdy  Scotch  character,  it  gives  a  glimpse  of  monastic 
life  in  the  sixteenth  century,  and  has  an  historical  value 
in  its  presentation  of  the  conflict  of  cross-currents  of 

263 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

thought  and  feeling,  as  they  affected  the  people  who 
lived  amid  the  furious  contentions  of  the  Reformation. 
Father  Eustace  is  a  fine  type  of  the  able,  intelligent, 
and  devoted  Catholic  priest,  and  Henry  Warden  of  the 
brave,  unflinching,  determined  apostle  of  the  reformed 
doctrines. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  ABBOT 

Scott  was  quick  to  realize  the  mistake  in  'The  Monas- 
tery/ and  promptly  redeemed  his  popularity  by  the  bold 
stroke  of  writing  a  sequel.  The  White  Maiden  was  ban- 
ished along  with  Sir  Pierde,  and  in  their  place  came  a 
train  of  new  characters,  well  calculated  to  win  the  sym- 
pathetic approval  of  the  public.  Mary  Queen  of  Scots 
was  the  chief  of  these,  and  the  novelist's  skilful  por- 
trayal of  her  character  made  a  success  of  'The  Abbot.' 
Roland  Graeme,  who  proved  to  be  one  of  the  best  of 
Scott's  heroes,  and  Catherine  Seyton,  a  young  woman 
of  charming  vivacity,  added  not  a  little  to  the  popular- 
ity of  the  novel. 

The  scenery,  at  first,  remains  the  same.  The  story 
opens  at  the  Castle  of  Avenel,  of  which  Sir  Halbert 
Glendinning  is  now  the  knight  and  Mary  Avenel  the 
lady.  Henry  Warden  is  estabUshed  there  as  chaplain. 
The  monks  are  still  permitted  to  linger  in  the  cloisters  of 
St.  Mary's,  and  among  them  is  Edward  Glendinning, 
known  as  Father  Ambrose,  who,  later,  becomes  the 
abbot. 

The  beautiful  abbey  is  pictured  at  the  beginning  of 
its  decay.  The  niches  have  been  stripped  of  their  sculp- 
tured images,  on  the  inside  as  well  as  the  outside  of  the 
building.  The  tombs  of  warriors  and  of  princes  have 
been  demoUshed.  The  church  is  strewn  with  confused 
heaps  of  broken  stone,  the  remnants  of  beautifully 

265 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

carved  statues  of  saints  and  angels,  with  lances  and 
swords  torn  from  above  the  tombs  of  famous  knights  of 
earlier  days,  and  sacred  relics  brought  by  pious  pilgrims. 
The  disheartened  monks  are  seen  conducting  their 
ceremonials  in  the  midst  of  aU  the  rubbish,  scarcely 
daring  to  clear  it  away.  In  keeping  with  this  picture  of 
decay  and  ruin  is  the  vivid  presentation  of  the  invasion 
of  the  sacred  abbey  by  the  irreverent  mob  of  masquer- 
aders  in  grotesque  costimies,  led  by  'the  venerable 
Father  Howleglas,  the  learned  Monk  of  Misrule  and  the 
Right  Reverend  Abbot  of  Unreason.' 

The  tale  now  leads  to  Edinburgh,  where  yoxmg 
Roland  Graeme  is  struck  with  surprise  as  he  comes,  for 
the  first  time,  into  the  Canongate.  'The  extreme  height 
of  the  houses,  and  the  variety  of  Gothic  gables,  and 
battlements,  and  balconies '  are  still  surprising.  Graeme 
gets  involved  in  a  street  scrirmnage,  common  enough  in 
the  Edinburgh  of  those  days,  and,  without  knowing  it, 
renders  service  to  Lord  Seyton,  one  of  the  most  faithful 
adherents  of  Queen  Mary.  A  few  minutes  later  he 
catches  sight  of  Catherine  Seyton  as  that  pretty  damsel 
is  about  to  *  dive  under  one  of  the  arched  passages  which 
afforded  an  outlet  to  the  Canongate  from  the  houses 
beneath.'  Many  of  these  arched  passages  may  still  be 
seen  in  the  Canongate.  The  house  of  Lord  Seyton  into 
which  Roland  followed  the  maiden  was  about  op- 
posite Queensbury  House,  near  the  eastern  end  of  the 
street. 

Holyrood  Palace  comes  into  the  story  as  the  place 
where  Roland  was  presented  to  the  Regent  Murray,  an 
introduction  into  which  Scott  is  believed  to  have  woven 
some  recollections  of  his  own  presentation  to  the  Duke 

266 


THE  ABBOT 

of  Wellington.  Although  the  palace  has  stood  for  many 
centuries  and  has  been  the  abode  of  many  kings,  its  real 
interest  centres  about  the  fortunes  of  Mary  Queen  of 
Scots.  Visitors  are  shown  the  audience  chamber  in 
which  the  Queen  received  John  Knox,  and  found  that 
the  great  Reformer,  unlike  other  men,  was  proof  against 
the  loveliness  of  her  countenance,  the  charm  of  her  man- 
ner, and  the  softness  of  her  speech.  Knox  foimd,  too, 
that  Mary  was  proof  against  the  bitterness  of  his 
arraignment  and  the  violence  of  his  denunciation. 
Opening  out  of  the  audience  chamber  is  Queen  Mary's 
bedroom,  where  a  bed,  said  to  be  Mary's  own,  is  care- 
fully preserved,  its  dingy  and  tattered  hangings  convey- 
ing little  suggestion  of  the  former  richness  of  the  crimson 
damask,  with  its  fringe  and  tassels  of  green.  A  narrow 
door  leads  to  a  small  dressing-closet,  and  another  to  the 
supper-room,  where  Mary  sat  with  David  Rizzio  and 
other  friends  on  the  fatal  night  of  February  13,  1565. 
Damley,  in  a  state  of  intoxication,  burst  into  the  room 
with  a  party  of  brutal  conspirators,  put  his  arms 
around  Mary  in  seeming  endearment,  while  the  others 
dragged  Rizzio  into  the  audience  chamber  and  stabbed 
him  to  death  with  their  daggers. 

The  introduction  of  Loch  Leven  Castle  gives  a  new 
scene  to  the  novel  and  one  of  great  beauty  and  interest. 
It  was  partly  Scott's  association  with  the  Blair  Adam 
Club  that  led  to  the  use  of  this  scene  and  the  historical 
incident  associated  with  it.  A  visit  of  Scott  and  his  life- 
long friends,  William  Clerk  and  Adam  Ferguson,  to  the 
Right  Honourable  William  Adam,  in  1816,  led  to  the 
formation  of  the  Blair  Adam  Club,  at  the  meetings  of 
which  Scott  was  a  constant  attendant  for  fifteen  years. 

267 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

Mr.  Adam,  who  held  the  distinguished  ofl&ce  of  Lord 
Chief  Commissioner  of  the  Jury  Court  in  Scotland,  was, 
says  Lockhart,  *  the  only  man  I  ever  knew  that  rivalled 
Sir  Walter  Scott  in  imiform  graciousness  of  bonhomie 
and  gentleness  of  himiour.'  In  a  book  privately  printed 
for  the  benefit  of  his  own  family  and  friends,  the  judge 
says:  — 

The  Castle  of  Loch  Leven  is  seen  at  every  turn  from  the 
northern  side  of  Blair  Adam.  This  castle,  renowned  and 
attractive  above  all  others  in  my  neighbourhood,  became  an 
object' of  much  increased  attention  and  a  theme  of  constant 
conversation,  after  the  author  of  'Waverley'  had,  by  his 
inimitable  power  of  delineating  character,  by  his  creative 
poetic  fancy  in  representing  scenes  of  varied  interest,  and  by 
the  splendour  of  his  romantic  descriptions,  infused  a  more 
diversified  and  a  deeper  tone  of  feeling  into  the  history  of 
Queen  Mary's  captivity  and  escape. 

Many  little  allusions  to  localities  on  the  estate  of  Blair 
Adam  and  references  to  the  virtues  and  manners  of  its 
occupants,  were  woven  into  the  story,  which,  while  they 
escape  the  attention  of  the  casual  reader,  did  not  fail  to 
please  the  genial  owner. 

The  castle  stands  on  an  island  in  Loch  Leven,  a  pretty 
sheet  of  water,  about  three  or  four  miles  long,  on  the 
western  border  of  which  lies  the  town  of  Kinross.  Two 
sturdy  fishermen  rowed  us  out  to  the  island  where  we 
found  the  ruin  of  a  square  building.  The  tower  is  in 
good  repair,  but  the  remaining  walls  are  quite  ruinous. 
In  one  comer  the  room  where  Queen  Mary  was  im- 
prisoned was  pointed  out  by  the  guides.  It  is  very 
small,  but  has  windows  overlooking  the  lake,  and  there 
b  room  on  the  island  for  a  pleasant  garden.  Except  for 

268 


THE  ABBOT 

the  loss  of  her  liberty,  Queen  Mary  might  have  found  the 
castle  a  pleasant  abode. 

Loch  Leven  Castle  was  the  property  of  Sir  William 
Douglas,  whose  wife  was  the  mother  of  the  Earl  of 
Murray,  the  illegitimate  son  of  James  V.  The  Lady 
Douglas  could  be  supposed  to  have  Uttle  sympathy  for 
the  legitimate  daughter  of  the  king  to  whom  she  pre- 
tended to  have  been  married.  In  placing  Mary  in  the 
hands  of  such  a  custodian,  the  lords  who  opposed  her 
felt  reasonably  secure. 

Scott  gives  a  wonderfully  dramatic  picture  of  the 
visit  of  Lord  Lindsay,  Lord  Ruthven,  and  Sir  Robert 
Melville  to  the  castle,  and  the  method  by  which  they  ex- 
torted Mary's  signature  to  deeds  abdicating  the  throne 
in  favour  of  her  infant  son  and  creating  the  Earl  of 
Murray  regent,  and  although  the  scene  is  purely  ficti- 
tious, the  facts  of  history  are  not  distorted.  Roland 
Graeme  is  represented  as  unsheathing  his  sword  and 
discovering  a  hidden  parchment  rolled  around  the 
blade.  It  proved  to  be  a  secret  message  from  Lord 
Seyton,  advising  Mary  to  yield  to  the  necessity  of  the 
situation.  The  incident  is  based  upon  the  fact  that  Sir 
Robert  Melville  was  sent  to  accompany  the  ruffianly 
Lindsay,  and  his  no  less  harsh  associate  Ruthven,  to 
prevent  violence  to  the  Queen,  and  to  carry,  concealed 
in  the  scabbard  of  his  sword,  a  message  from  her  friends 
advising  submission  and  carrying  the  assurance  that 
deeds  signed  under  such  compulsion  would  not  be 
legally  binding  when  she  regained  her  Uberty. 

The  escape  of  the  Queen  is  told  in  substantial  accord- 
ance with  the  facts,  though  with  a  variation  of  details 
which  the  license  of  the  novelist  would  easily  permit, 

269 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

George  Douglas,  a  younger  brother  of  the  lord  of  Loch 
Leven,  was  much  impressed  by  the  beauty  of  the 
Queen,  and  captivated  by  her  pleasant  manners  and  fair 
promises.  He  devised  a  plan  of  escape,  but  this  was 
discovered  and  George  was  expelled  from  the  castle  by 
his  brother.  Another  attempt  was  more  successful.  An 
inmate  of  the  castle,  called  'the  Little  Douglas,'  had 
also  felt  a  sympathy  for  the  Queen.  He  was  a  lad  of 
seventeen  or  eighteen  and  really  played  the  part  which 
Scott  assigned  to  Roland  Graeme.  He  stole  the  keys 
and  set  the  prisoner  at  liberty  in  the  night.  Placing  her 
in  a  boat,  he  paused  long  enough  to  lock  the  iron  gates  of 
the  tower  from  the  outside  so  that  pursuit  would  be 
impossible,  then,  throwing  the  keys  into  the  lake, 
rowed  his  passenger  ashore.  George  Douglas,  Lord 
Seyton,  and  other  friends  were  waiting  to  receive  her 
and  conveyed  her  in  triumph  to  Hamilton. 

An  army  of  six  thousand  men  was  quickly  assembled, 
the  plan  being  to  place  the  Queen  safely  in  the  fortress 
of  Dumbarton,  and  then  give  battle  to  the  Regent  Mur- 
ray. The  latter  was  too  quick  for  the  allies,  however. 
He  was  then  at  Glasgow  and  marched  at  once,  though 
with  an  inferior  force,  to  intercept  the  advancing  army. 
They  met  at  Langside,  now  a  suburb  of  Glasgow,  and 
after  a  fierce  struggle  the  Queen's  forces  were  scattered. 
Mary  herself  continued  her  flight,  imtil  she  reached  the 
Abbey  of  Dundrennan,  in  the  Coimty  of  Kirkcudbright, 
where  she  spent  her  last  night  in  Scotland. 

The  novelist  represents  Queen  Mary  as  viewing  the 
battle  from  the  Castle  of  Crookston,  and  the  unfortu- 
nate lady  dramatically  exclaims, '  0, 1  must  forget  much 
ere  I  can  look  with  steady  eyes  on  these  well-known 

370 


THE  ABBOT 

scenes!  I  must  forget  the  days  which  I  spent  here  as  the 
bride  of  the  lost  —  the  murdered '  —  Here  Mary  Flem- 
ing interrupts  to  explain  to  the  Abbot  that  in  this  castle 
'the  Queen  held  her  first  court  after  she  was  married  to 
Darnley.' 

Mary  could  not  have  witnessed  the  battle  of  Langside 
from  Crookston,  unless,  indeed,  she  had  had,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  Sam  Weller,  instead  of  eyes,  *  a  pair  o'  patent 
double  million  magnifyin'  gas  microscopes  of  hextra 
power,'  for  Langside  is  at  least  four  miles  away  and  the 
contour  of  the  coimtry  would  make  such  a  view  impos- 
sible. She  really  watched  it  from  a  knoll  near  the  old 
Castle  of  Cathcart,  which  has  since  been  known  as 
Court  Knowe.  Scott  admitted  the  error,  but  did  not 
much  regret  it,  as  Crookston  seemed  the  place  best 
suited  to  the  dramatic  requirements  of  the  tale,  because 
of  Mary's  former  association  with  the  castle.  Here 
again  the  facts  are  against  him.  Crookston  was  the 
property  of  the  Earl  of  Lennox,  Darnley's  father,  but 
Darnley  himself  never  lived  there,  except  possibly  as  a 
boy,  before  he  went  to  France  at  the  age  of  sixteen.  It 
seems  to  be  certain  to  those  who  have  investigated  the 
facts  that  after  his  return  he  had  no  opportunity  of 
going  there  and  that  he  and  Queen  Mary  could  not  have 
visited  the  place  together,  either  before  or  after  their 
marriage. 

Nevertheless,  Scott  was  wise  to  let  the  incident  remain 
as  he  wrote  it,  for  'The  Abbot'  is  not  a  work  of  history, 
but  a  romance. 


CHAPTER  XX 

KENHWORTH 

The  successful  introduction  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  as 
the  central  figure  of  'The  Abbot'  resulted,  not  only  in 
repairing  the  reputation  which  had  been  somewhat 
damaged  by  its  predecessor,  but  in  suggesting  the  theme 
of  a  new  novel  which  was  to  achieve  a  popularity  second 
only  to  'Ivanhoe.'  The  desire  to  portray,  in  the  form  of 
romance,  the  great  rival  of  Queen  Mary,  was  perhaps 
irresistible,  particularly  in  view  of  the  fact  that  it  meant 
a  new  opportxmity  to  reach  that  English  audience 
which  had  given  to  'Ivanhoe'  so  cordial  a  reception. 
Constable,  the  publisher,  was  of  course  delighted  to  have 
a  new  English  novel  and  particularly  one  in  which 
Queen  Elizabeth  was  to  be  an  important  figure.  With 
characteristic  presumptuousness  he  argued  that  it 
should  be  a  story  of  the  Armada.  Scott,  however,  had 
been  enchanted  in  his  youth  by  a  ballad  of  the  Scotch 
poet,  Mickle,  entitled  'Ciminor  Hall,'  and  particularly 
by  its  first  stanza:  — 

The  dews  of  summer  night  did  fall; 

The  moon,  sweet  regent  of  the  sky, 
Silver  *d  the  walls  of  Cxminor  Hall, 

And  many  an  oak  that  grew  thereby. 

He  insisted,  therefore,  in  spite  of  his  adviser,  upon 
taking  the  theme  of  the  ballad  for  his  subject  and  would 
even  have  called  the  novel '  Cunmor  Hall.'  In  deference 
to  Constable,  however,  he  accepted  the  title,  Kenil- 

272 


KENILWORTH 

worth,'  although  John  Ballantyne  growled  a  little  at  a 
name  which  he  thought  suggested  'something  worthy  of 
a  kennel.' 

Here,  then,  were  the  determining  points  of  the  new 
novel,  namely,  a  favourite  poem  concerning  the  mar- 
riage of  the  Earl  of  Leicester  to  a  lady  whom  he  kept 
concealed  at  Cimmor  Hall,  the  desire  to  sketch,  in  a 
romantic  way,  the  character  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  and  the 
opportunity  to  secure  a  dramatic  climax  by  confronting 
the  Queen  with  the  wife  of  her  favourite  courtier,  in  the 
splendid  castle  of  the  latter  at  Kenilworth. 

Cumnor  is  one  of  those  lovely  little  villages  in  the 
Midlands  of  England  where  Father  Time  employs  his 
talents  as  an  artist,  softening  the  outlines  of  the  stone 
walls  and  fences  with  graceful  mantles  of  dark  green  ivy 
and  imparting  richer  and  deeper  shades  of  brown  to  the 
old  thatched  roofs  of  the  cottages. 

We  saw  few  evidences  of  activity  on  the  part  of  the 
inhabitants,  and  reached  the  conclusion  that  Ciunnor, 
in  Walter  Scott's  time,  and  even  in  the  days  of  the  Earl 
of  Leicester,  could  not  have  been  very  different  from  its 
present  aspect. 

We  did  not  ruin  our  reputation  as  travellers  by  faihng 
to  'wet  a  cup  at  the  bonny  Black  Bear,'  for  that  'excel- 
lent inn  of  the  old  stamp,'  if  indeed  it  ever  existed,  has 
disappeared  as  effectually  as  its  famous  landlord,  Giles 
Gosling.  Its  prototype,  bearing  the  sign  of  the  'Bear 
and  Ragged  Staff,'  formerly  stood  opposite  the  church, 
but  its  bar-room  became  objectionable  to  the  vicar  and, 
by  what  a  local  writer  calls  'an  impious  act  of  vandal- 
ism,' the  inn  was  destroyed. 

Cumnor  Place  has  likewise  disappeared.    The  site 

273 


THE  COUNTRY  OF   SCOTT 

where  it  stood  appears  to  be  a  comparatively  small  piece 
of  land,  near  the  street,  but  well  covered  with  large 
trees.  It  was  not  an  extensive  park  with  formal  walks 
and  avenues,  nor  was  the  house  itself  so  large  or  high  as 
the  structure  described  in  the  novel.  It  was  a  single- 
story  building  or  series  of  buildings,  forming  an  enclo- 
sure about  seventy  feet  long  and  fifty  feet  wide.  It  was 
built  about  1350  as  a  country  residence  for  the  Abbot  of 
Abingdon  and  as  a  sanitarium  for  the  monks.  After 
two  centuries  its  use  by  the  monastery  ceased  and 
Cumnor  Place  passed  into  the  hands  of  the  Court  physi- 
cian, George  Owen,  who  leased  it  to  Anthony  Foster. 
As  the  servant  of  Lord  Robert  Dudley,  Foster  received 
into  his  house  the  ill-fated  Amy  Robsart,  whom  that 
gentleman  had  married  in  1550.  The  marriage  was  not 
secret,  but  was  celebrated  in  the  presence  of  the  young 
King,  Edward  VI,  and  his  Court.  It  had  been  arranged 
by  Dudley's  father,  John,  Earl  of  Warwick  and  Duke 
of  Northumberland,  who  seems  to  have  had  a  fondness 
for  match-making,  of  the  kind  which  promised  a  profit. 
He  managed  to  marry  his  fourth  son,  Guildford  Dudley, 
to  Lady  Jane  Grey,  a  great-granddaughter  of  Henry 
VII.  In  the  last  two  years  of  the  reign  of  Edward  VI, 
Northumberland  was  virtually  the  ruler  of  England. 
He  induced  the  King  to  execute  a  will,  disinheriting  his 
two  sisters,  Mary  and  Elizabeth,  who  were  the  legal 
heirs  to  the  crown,  and  naming  Lady  Jane  Grey  as  his 
successor.  The  reign  of  this  unfortunate  lady,  who 
never  desired  the  throne,  lasted  but  nine  days.  The 
rightfid  Queen,  Mary,  was  restored  by  the  people,  and 
Northumberland,  like  his  father  before  him,  was  be- 
headed in  the  Tower.    His  son,  Guildford,  with  Jane 

»74 


KENILWORTH 

Grey,  his  wife,  suffered  the  same  penalty  a  year  later, 
as  the  result  of  another  revolt,  in  which  the  lady,  at 
least,  had  no  share. 

Robert  Dudley  came  near  falling  a  victim  to  the  same 
fate  as  his  father  and  grandfather.  He  took  up  arms 
against  Queen  Mary,  was  sent  to  the  Tower  and  con- 
demned to  death.  But  the  Queen  pardoned  him  and 
made  him  Master  of  the  Ordnance.  On  the  accession  of 
Elizabeth  he  became  Master  of  the  Horse,  and  there- 
after rose  rapidly  in  the  royal  favour.  Elizabeth  made 
him  a  Knight  of  the  Garter,  bestowed  upon  him  the 
Castle  of  Kenilworth,  the  lordship  of  Denbigh  and  other 
rich  lands  in  Warwickshire  and  Wales.  In  1564  the 
Queen  made  him  Earl  of  Leicester,  and  recommended 
him  (perhaps  not  seriously)  as  a  possible  husband  of 
Mary  Queen  of  Scots.  The  University  of  Oxford  made 
him  their  chancellor  and  the  King  of  France  conferred 
upon  him  the  order  of  St.  Michael.  He  reached  the  cul- 
mination of  the  high  honours  which  Elizabeth  and  others 
crowded  upon  him,  in  the  appointment  as  Lieutenant- 
General  of  the  army  mustered  to  meet  the  Spanish 
invasion,  in  the  year  of  the  great  Armada,  1588. 

This  was  the  outward  show,  and  it  was  brilliant 
enough ;  but  the  Earl  was  like  a  worm-eaten  apple  — 
fair  enough  to  look  upon,  but  rotten  to  the  core  —  and 
his  private  life  was  thoroughly  contemptible.  The  mar- 
riage to  Amy  Robsart  in  1 550  was  not  a  happy  one.  She 
was  never  a  countess,  for  Dudley  did  not  become  Earl  of 
Leicester  until  four  years  after  her  death.  After  the 
favours  of  Elizabeth  began  to  be  showered  upon  him, 
Dudley  had  good  reason  for  concealing  this  marriage, 
for  the  Queen  soon  began  to  show  a  longing  to  make  him 

275 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

her  royal  husband.  In  1560,  two  years  after  the  acces- 
sion of  Elizabeth,  the  dead  body  of  Amy  was  found  at 
the  foot  of  the  stairs  at  Cumnor.  All  the  servants  had 
gone  to  a  neighbouring  fair  and  apparently  Anthony 
Foster  was  the  only  person  besides  Amy  at  home  on  that 
day.  It  was  given  out  that  Amy  had  accidentally  fallen 
downstairs  and  broken  her  neck.  She  was  ostentatiously 
buried  in  the  Church  of  St.  Mary  the  Virgin  in  Oxford, 
though  Lord  Dudley  was  not  present  at  the  funeral  nor 
did  he  again  visit  Cumnor. 

More  than  twenty  years  later  a  pamphlet  was  pub- 
lished, anonymously,  under  the  title  'Leicester's  Com- 
monwealth,' in  which  the  Earl  was  bitterly  attacked  as 
an  atheist  and  a  traitor  as  well  as  a  man  of  infamous 
character.  He  was  openly  accused  of  the  murder  of  his 
wife,  and  there  were  not  wanting  many  evidences  seem- 
ing to  corroborate  this  view.  It  was  alleged  that  efforts 
to  poison  her  were  made,  by  direction  of  the  Earl.  That 
Leicester  was  not  incapable  of  such  an  act  is  indicated 
by  the  circumstances  of  his  own  death.  The  tradition  is 
that  he  gave  his  wife  (the  third  one)  a  bottle  of  medicine 
to  be  used  for  faintness.  The  lady  kept  it,  unused,  and 
later,  not  knowing  it  to  be  poison,  administered  a  dose 
to  her  husband,  with  a  fatal  result.  This  lady  was  the 
widow  of  Walter,  Earl  of  Essex,  with  whom  the  Earl 
of  Leicester  was  carrying  on  an  intrigue  before  her 
husband's  death.  There  was  a  quarrel  and  Essex  died 
suddenly,  under  some  suspicion  of  poison.  Leicester's 
secret  marriage  with  the  widow  led  to  serious  accusa- 
tions against  him.  According  to  the  author  of  'Leices- 
ter's Commonwealth,'  when  the  Earl  fell  in  love  with 
Lady  Douglas  Sheffield  (who  became  his  second  wife), 

276 


KENILWORTH 

her  husband  suddenly  died  under  mysterious  circum- 
stances. Leicester  had  in  his  employ  an  Italian  physi- 
cian who  was  a  skilful  compounder  of  poisons.  It  was 
said  that  his  cimning  and  skill  enabled  him  to  cause  a 
person  to  die  with  the  symptoms  of  any  disease  he  might 
choose,  or  to  administer  a  poison  so  that  the  victim 
would  expire  at  whatever  hour  he  might  appoint.  These 
weird  tales  no  doubt  suggested  something  of  the  char- 
acter of  the  fraudulent  alchemist  and  astrologer,  Alasco. 

The  stair  at  the  foot  of  which  Amy  Robsart's  body 
was  found  was  a  narrow  winding  flight,  something  like  a 
corkscrew.  It  has  been  pointed  out  that  Amy  would 
have  had  considerable  difficulty  in  hurling  herself  head- 
long around  the  twists  and  turns  of  such  a  staircase 
with  enough  force  to  break  her  neck.  Without  definite 
knowledge  of  the  facts,  the  most  reasonable  supposition 
is  that  Lord  Dudley,  having  a  motive  for  the  crime  and 
being  a  man  of  unscrupulous  character,  would  not  hesi- 
tate to  order  it  committed.  His  grandfather  had  been 
the  agent  of  Henry  VII  in  the  infamous  extortions  which 
gave  that  sovereign  an  enormous  fortune;  his  father  had 
not  hesitated  to  risk  the  hves  of  his  son  and  an  innocent 
lady  to  accomplish  his  own  treasonable  purposes,  besides 
directly  causing  the  death  of  the  Duke  of  Somerset,  and 
indirectly  bringing  about  the  execution  of  the  Duke's 
brother.  Lord  Seymour.  It  is  therefore  not  unreason- 
able to  suppose  that  the  scion  of  this  ambitious  family, 
who  was  himself  cherishing  no  less  bold  a  project  than 
his  own  marriage  with  the  Queen,  should  willingly  give 
orders  to  remove  the  one  great  obstacle  in  his  path. 

The  great  festivities  at  Kenil worth  occurred  in  1575. 
Amy  Robsart  had  been  dead  fifteen  years.  The  Earl  of 

277 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

Leicester  was  none  the  less  entangled,  however,  for  he 
was  at  the  time  married  to  Lady  Sheffield,  who  strongly 
maintained  the  validity  of  the  marriage,  though  it  was 
denied  by  the  Earl  and  concealed  from  the  Queen.  At 
the  same  time,  also,  the  intrigue  with  the  Coimtess  of 
Essex  was  in  progress.  From  this  it  will  be  seen  that 
although  Scott  departed  from  the  facts  of  history  in 
bringing  poor  Amy  to  Kenil worth,  he  nevertheless  gave 
a  true  picture  of  the  Earl  of  Leicester's  embarrassment 
in  the  presence  of  his  Queen,  Scott  softens  the  black- 
hearted villainy  of  the  Earl,  by  making  him  an  unwilling 
victim  of  his  own  ambition,  duped  into  deeds  of  infamy 
by  the  determination  of  the  conscienceless  Richard 
Vamey.  He  admits  that  he  preferred  to  make  the  Earl 
'  rather  the  dupe  of  villains  than  the  unprincipled  author 
of  their  atrocities,'  because  in  the  latter  capacity,  he 
would  have  been  a  character  too  disgustingly  wicked  for 
the  purposes  of  fiction. 

According  to  Scott's  account,  the  unfortunate  Amy, 
after  falling  completely  into  the  toils  of  Varney,  was 
carried  back  to  Ciunnor  Place,  and  lodged  in  a  tower 
room  at  the  top  of  the  building.  A  gallery,  arranged  by  a 
secret  contrivance  to  be  used  as  a  drawbridge,  which, 
when  dropped,  would  cut  ofif  all  access  to  the  chamber, 
was  the  only  means  of  entrance  or  exit.  After  Amy  had 
entered  the  chamber,  Varney  and  Foster  withdrew  the 
supports  of  the  bridge  in  such  manner  that  the  slightest 
weight  would  cause  it  to  fall.  Vamey  then  reached  the 
consummation  of  his  villainy  by  imitating  the  whistle  of 
Leicester.  Amy,  deceived  by  the  signal  and  eager  to 
meet  her  Lord,  rushed  upon  the  bridge  and  fell  to  the 
deepest  vault  of  the  castle.    The  method  of  the  real 

278 


KENILWORTH 

Amy's  death  is  not  definitely  known,  but  it  was  probably 
by  no  such  elaborate  invention.  She  was  doubtless 
strangled  in  her  room  and  her  body  carried  to  the  foot  of 
the  stairs  to  suggest  an  accidental  death. 

Anthony  Foster  lies  buried  in  Cumnor  Church,  which 
stands  on  land  adjoining  the  site  of  Cumnor  Place,  near 
the  entrance  to  the  village  on  the  road  from  Oxford.  It  is 
one  of  those  stone  churches,  with  square,  substantial 
towers  and  ivy-clad  walls,  which  add  to  the  charm  of  the 
landscape  throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  Eng- 
land, as  though  she  intended  thereby  to  express  both 
the  beauty  and  the  solidity  of  her  religion. 

The  Foster  tomb  is  an  elaborate  monument  of  grey 
marble,  within  the  altar  rail,  and  is  easily  the  most 
noteworthy  feature  of  the  interior  of  the  church.  Two 
engraved  brass  plates  represent  the  family  at  prayers, 
and  beneath  is  a  long  inscription  in  Latin,  indicating 
that  Anthony  Foster  was  a  distinguished  gentleman  of 
good  birth,  skilled  in  the  arts  of  music  and  horticulture, 
a  good  linguist  and  renowned  for  charity,  benevolence, 
and  religious  fidelity.  Looking  upon  this  elaborate 
memorial,  one  cannot  escape  the  conviction  that  Tony 
Foster  was  either  a  greatly  maligned  saint  or  the  parent 
of  a  family  of  hypocrites.  If  the  intention  of  those  who 
composed  the  inscription  was  to  convince  the  world  of 
his  innocence,  they  could  not  have  been  expected  to 
foresee  that,  for  every  person  who  should  read  and 
understand  the  epitaph,  ten  thousand  would  be  led  to 
a  perception  of  Foster's  real  character  through  the  pen 
of  a  Scottish  novelist,  but  for  whom  few  of  us  would 
ever  have  known  the  sad  story  of  the  Lady  of  Cumnor 
Hall. 

279 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

As  for  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  a  more  truthful  epitaph 

exists,  not  indeed  carved  upon  stone,  but  preserved  in 

the  Collections  of  Drummond  of  Hawthomden.    It 

reads:  — 

Here  lies  a  valiant  warrior, 

Who  never  drew  a  sword; 
Here  lies  a  noble  courtier, 

Who  never  kept  his  word; 
Here  lies  the  Erie  of  Leister, 

Who  govem'd  the  estates; 
Whom  the  earth  could  never  living  love, 

And  the  just  Heaven  now  hates. 

The  escape  of  Amy  Robsart  from  Cmnnor  Place  was 
achieved  through  the  aid  of  Wayland  Smith,  a  black- 
smith, pedler,  and  strolling  juggler,  who  had  picked  up 
from  a  former  master  some  knowledge  of  medicine 
which  he  employed  to  good  advantage.  There  was  a 
legend  current  in  Berkshire  of  a  mysterious  smith,  who 
lived  among  the  rocks  and  replaced  lost  horseshoes  for  a 
fee  of  sixpence,  feeling  offended  if  more  were  offered. 
Scott  used  this  tale  as  the  basis  of  his  story  of  Wayland 
Smith.  The  idea  of  having  his  smithy  in  a  cave  may 
have  been  suggested  by  just  such  a  place  in  Gihnerton, 
a  village  on  the  outskirts  of  Edinburgh,  with  which 
Scott  must  have  been  familiar.  I  had  no  difl&culty  in 
finding  it.  It  is  an  artificial  cavern,  with  many  ramifica- 
tions, and  as  the  light  can  enter  only  from  the  door  at 
the  head  of  a  stone  stairway,  its  farther  comers  are  ex- 
tremely dark.  Near  the  entrance  is  a  blacksmith's 
forge.  In  a  small  and  dark  alcove  opposite  is  an  oblong 
stone,  evidently  intended  as  a  dining-table.  A  rough 
shelf  or  ledge,  cut  out  of  the  stone  partition,  served  as  a 
bench  at  meal- times.  Any  of  the  dark  comers  could  be 

280 


KENILWORTH 

used  as  sleeping-rooms.  The  cave  was  probably  used  by 
thieves  or  smugglers  as  a  convenient  hiding-place. 

Amy's  journey  from  Cumnor  Village,  four  miles  west 
of  Oxford,  to  Kenilworth,  in  the  centre  of  Warwickshire, 
was  a  ride  of  about  fifty  miles.  Perhaps  the  Countess's 
mental  condition  would  not  permit  her  to  enjoy  it  and 
doubtless  the  country  then  was  wild  and  the  roads 
rough;  but  the  route  to-day  would  be  a  delightful  one, 
especially  that  part  of  it  which  passes  through  Warwick- 
shire with  its  'hedgerows  of  immarketable  beauty.' 

As  they  approached  the  old  town  of  Warwick, 
travelling  by  circuitous  paths  to  avoid  the  crowds  then 
journeying  to  witness  the  festivities  at  Kenilworth,  Amy 
and  her  humble  guide,  the  blacksmith,  passed  through 
some  of  the  most  beautiful  country  in  England.  But 
they  were  obliged  to  avoid  what  to-day  forms  the  grand 
climax  of  interest  to  the  tourist,  the  magnificent  Castle 
of  Warwick.  This  was  the  resting-place  of  Queen  Eliza- 
beth on  the  day  preceding  her  triumphal  progress  to 
Kenilworth.  In  those  days  it  was  the  seat  of  Ambrose 
Dudley,  a  brother  to  the  Earl  of  Leicester  and  the  third 
son  of  the  notorious  John  Dudley. 

There  was  never  a  time,  say  the  local  antiquaries, 
back  as  far  as  the  reign  of  the  celebrated  King  Arthur, 
when  Warwick  did  not  have  its  Earls.  The  most 
renowned  of  these  was  Guy,  a  great  warrior  supposed  to 
stand  nine  feet  high,  among  whose  exploits  were  the 
killing  of  'a  Saracen  giant,  a  wild  boar,  a  dun  cow,  and  a 
green  dragon.'  After  a  life  devoted  to  these  pleasant 
diversions,  he  retired  to  Guy's  Cliffe,  a  retreat  near 
Warwick,  famed  for  its  natural  beauty,  where  he  lived 
as  a  hermit  until  his  death.   The  real  building  of  the 

281 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

castle  began  when  the  Normans  took  possession,  Wil- 
liam the  Conqueror  granting  the  vast  estate,  including 
the  castle  and  the  town,  to  Henry  de  Newburgh,  the  first 
Earl  of  Warwick.  In  the  fifteenth  century  it  came  into 
the  possession  of  Richard  Neville,  the  famous  'King- 
Maker.'  Since  that  time  many  improvements  have  been 
made,  especially  in  the  spacious  grounds,  which  now 
make  a  splendid  park,  with  well-kept  lawns  and  paths, 
stately  trees,  formal  gardens  with  yews  fantastically 
trimmed,  and  a  profusion  of  flowers. 

The  entrance  road,  cut  through  solid  rock,  looks  as  if 
carved  out  of  soft  moss,  so  thickly  does  the  ivy  cling 
to  the  walls.  Trees  of  varied  foliage  overarch  the  path, 
and  near  the  entrance  the  edges  are  bordered  by  nar- 
row lines  of  flowers.  At  the  end  of  this  delightful 
avenue  a  sharp  turn  to  the  left  brought  us  in  front  of 
the  great  Castle.  On  the  right  is  Guy's  Tower,  rising 
one  hundred  and  twenty-eight  feet  high  and  having 
walls  ten  feet  thick.  On  the  left  is  Caesar's  Tower,  built  by 
the  Normans  eight  hxmdred  years  ago  and  still  firm  as  the 
rock  up)on  which  it  stands.  The  two  are  joined  by  an 
ivy-covered  wall  in  the  centre  of  which  is  a  great  gate 
between  two  towers.  Passing  through  this  gateway  we 
entered  the  spacious  court.  Directly  opposite  is  the 
mound,  or  keep,  almost  completely  covered  from  base  to 
simimit  with  trees  and  shrubs,  over  the  tops  of  which  the 
towers  and  battlements  peep  out.  On  the  right  are  two 
unfinished  towers,  one  of  them  begun  by  Richard  III, 
the  whole  side  of  the  quadrangle  forming  a  massive 
line  of  ramparts  and  embattled  walls.  On  the  left  is  the 
great  mansion,  occupied  for  centuries  by  the  Earls  of 
Warwick.  The  square  formed  by  these  huge  stone  build- 

282 


KENILWORTH 

ings  is  beautiful  in  its  simplicity  —  a  wide  expanse  of 
lawn,  its  rich  velvet  green  broken  only  by  the  white 
gravel  walks.  To  see  the  interior  of  the  castle  we  were 
compelled  to  join  a  party  of  tourists,  and  march  in 
solemn  procession  through  the  rooms  of  state,  while  our 
guide,  an  old  soldier  with  a  Cockney  accent,  loquaciously 
explained  that  his  'hobject'  in  telling  us  about  the 
'  hearls '  in  this  room  was  to  prepare  us  to  appreciate  the 
'hearls'  in  the  next!  This  agony  over,  we  departed  by 
the^road  which  leads  across  the  Avon,  where  we  were 
rewarded  by  a  superb  view  of  the  castle  from  the 
bridge. 

The  next  day  we  were  at  Kenilworth.  It  requires  the 
exercise  of  a  vivid  imagination  to  walk  among  the  ruins 
and  trace  the  progress  of  Scott's  story,  but  we  found  it 
a  delightful  study.  We  entered  by  the  Httle  wicket  gate, 
next  to  the  mansion  known  as  the  Gatehouse,  erected  by 
Dudley  in  1570  as  the  chief  entrance  to  the  castle. 
Walking  south,  across  the  outer  court,  we  came  to  the 
ancient  entrance  in  the  southeast  angle  known  as 
Mortimer's  Tower.  From  this  point  an  embankment 
stretched  to  the  southeast  for  about  one  hundred  and 
fifty  yards.  It  was  eighteen  yards  wide  and  twenty  feet 
high.  Besides  serving  its  original  purpose  of  a  dam,  to 
hold  back  the  waters  of  a  great  lake  covering  one  hun- 
dred and  eleven  acres,  this  bank  of  earth  made  an  ad- 
mirable tilt-yard.  At  the  extreme  end  of  the  embank- 
ment was  the  Gallery  Tower,  containing  a  spacious 
room  from  which  the  ladies  could  witness  the  tourna- 
ments. A  wall  eight  feet  high  and  eighty-five  feet  long 
is  all  that  remains  of  this  structure.  It  was  built  by 
Heairy  III  in  the  thirteenth  century  and  reconstructed 

283 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

by  the  Earl  of  Leicester  in  preparation  for  the  great 
festivities. 

Here  Amy  presented  herself  under  strange  drcum- 
stances.  As  the  wife  of  the  great  Earl  of  Leicester,  the 
magnificent  castle  was  her  own  and  all  its  army  of  serv- 
ants, and  the  vast  crowd  of  sight-seers,  could  they 
have  recognized  their  countess,  would  have  bowed  in 
humble  reverence  and  have  delighted  to  execute  her 
slightest  wish.  But  she  came  imknown  and  unrespected, 
not  as  the  honoured  Countess,  but  as  'the  bale  of 
woman's  gear '  belonging  to  a  blacksmith,  disguised  as  a 
juggler.  At  the  Gallery  Tower  the  two  strange  compan- 
ions were  halted  by  a  giant  porter,  and  gained  admission 
only  by  the  intercession  of  the  mischievous  little  imp 
called  Flibbertigibbet.  They  traversed  the  length  of  the 
tilt-yard,  and  passing  through  Mortimer's  Tower,  came 
in  front  of  the  splendid  buildings,  all  with  doors  and 
gates  wide  open  as  a  sign  of  unlimited  hospitaUty. 

On  their  right  stood  the  stately  Caesar's  Tower,  a  fine 
specimen  of  the  military  architecture  of  the  Normans, 
built  about  1170  to  11 80,  and  still  the  best-preserved 
portion  of  the  ruins.  On  their  left  was  the  great 
'Leicester's  Building,'  erected  in  honour  of  the  occasion 
for  the  accommodation  of  the  Queen.  It  reached  a 
height  of  ninety-three  feet  and  was  ninety  feet  long  and 
fifty  feet  wide.  The  walls  are  thin,  however,  and  al- 
though the  most  recent  in  date  of  all  the  important 
parts  of  the  castle,  this  structure  has  crumbled  into 
ruins  to  such  an  extent  that  it  can  be  preserved  only  by 
constant  attention. 

Between  Caesar's  Tower  and  Leicester's  Building,  and 
joining  the  two,  Amy  and  her  guide  saw  a  stately  edifice, 

284 


KENILWORTH 

then  known  as  King  Henry  VIII's  Lodgings,  because  it 
was  used  by  that  monarch  on  the  occasion  of  his  visits  to 
the  castle.  The  portion  on  the  left,  immediately  adjoin- 
ing Leicester's  Building,  was  called  Dudley's  Lobby. 
No  vestige  of  these  structures,  which  originally  formed 
the  eastern  side  of  a  magnificent  quadrangle,  can  now 
be  seen. 

Passing  through  an  open  gateway  between  Caesar's 
Tower  and  King  Henry's  Lodgings,  the  Countess  entered 
the  Inner  Court.  On  the  right,  and  in  the  rear  of 
Caesar's  Tower,  she  could  see  the  great  kitchens,  then  a 
busy  part  of  the  establishment,  but  now  showing  little 
more  than  the  remains  of  a  huge  fireplace  and  a  thick 
wall  from  which  project  a  broken  arch  or  two.  On  the 
left  were  the  White  Hall,  now  entirely  destroyed,  and 
next  to  it  the  Presence  Chamber,  which  had  a  fine  oriel 
window  looking  into  the  court.  Directly  in  front  Amy 
could  see  the  'Great  Hall'  in  which  her  princely  hus- 
band had  made  lavish  preparations  to  entertain  the 
Queen  with  unprecedented  extravagance.  It  was  built 
in  the  fourteenth  century  by  John  of  Gaunt,  son  of 
Edward  III,  who  took  up  his  residence  at  the  castle  on 
the  death  of  his  father,  and  spent  the  remainder  of  his 
life  in  adding  to  its  magnificence.  The  hall  was  ninety 
feet  long  and  forty-five  feet  wide.  The  floor  has  disap- 
peared, but  the  remains  of  the  pillars  and  arches  which 
once  supported  it  may  still  be  seen.  The  Great  Hall 
was  lighted  by  large  and  very  high  windows,  set  in  deep 
recesses,  the  outlines  of  which  are  still  well  preserved. 
The  remains  of  two  large  fireplaces,  one  on  each  side, 
may  still  be  seen.  At  the  southern  end  was  a  dais,  upon 
which  was  the  Throne  of  State,  with  crimson  canopy  of 

28s 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

richly  embroidered  velvet.  At  the  opposite  end  was  a 
minstrel  gallery  for  the  musicians.  From  the  centre  of 
the  roof  himg  a  chandelier  of  brass,  shaped  like  an  eagle, 
its  spreading  wings  supporting  six  himian  figures,  each 
of  which  carried  a  pair  of  branches  containing  huge 
candles.  The  tables,  chairs,  cushions,  carpets,  and 
silken  tapestries  were  all  of  the  costliest  workmanship. 
It  is  stated  that  the  Earl  of  Leicester  spent  £60,000 
upon  this  lavish  entertainment,  a  sum  which,  to-day, 
would  be  better  represented  by  half  a  miUion. 

Amy  and  her  escort  were  not  at  liberty  to  view  this 
regal  magnificence.  They  proceeded  across  the  court  to 
a  tower  at  the  northwestern  angle,  which  was  doubtless 
intended  for  a  prison,  judging  from  the  thickness  of  the 
walls  and  the  small  size  of  the  rooms.  It  was  called,  for 
this  reason,  the  Strong  Tower,  though  Scott's  name 
for  it  is  Mervyn's  Tower.  During  the  Elizabethan  fes- 
tivities it  was  used  for  the  accommodation  of  guests. 
Here  we  must  leave  Amy  for  the  present  and  go  back  to 
trace  the  movements  of  EHzabeth. 

The  Queen  approached  by  way  of  the  Gallery  Tower, 
heralded  by  the  roll  of  drums,  the  blare  of  trumpets,  the 
roar  of  cannon,  and  the  tiunultuous  shouts  of  a  vast 
multitude.  Two  hundred  thick  waxen  torches,  each 
borne  by  a  horseman,  cast  a  glare  of  light  upon  the 
cavalcade.  The  Queen,  mounted  upon  a  milk-white 
horse  and  clad  in  gorgeous  raiment,  blazing  with  jewels, 
was  accompanied  by  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  'glittering 
like  a  golden  image  with  jewels  and  cloth  of  gold.'  He 
rode  a  jet-black  horse,  renowned  as  one  of  the  most 
splendid  chargers  in  Europe.  Both  horse  and  rider 
seemed  perfectly  formed  to  grace  an  occasion  so  glorious. 

286 


KENILWORTH 

A  great  procession  of  the  most  distinguished  noble- 
men, the  ablest  statesmen,  and  the  proudest  knights  of 
England  followed  the  Queen,  together  with  the  ladies  of 
the  Court,  famed  for  splendour  and  beauty  and  arrayed 
in  garments  only  a  little  less  magnificent  than  those  of  the 
Queen  herself.  Passing  upon  the  bridge  or  dam  which 
stretched  between  the  gallery  and  Mortimer's  Tower, 
the  royal  procession  paused  to  witness  a  gorgeous  spec- 
tacular performance  on  the  lake.  Then,  entering  the 
Base  Court,  they  moved  through  various  pageants  to 
the  Inner  Court,  and  came  at  length  to  the  Great  Hall, 
where  the  Queen  was  handed  to  the  Throne  by  the  Earl 
of  Leicester. 

The  Pleasance  was  an  irregular-shaped  enclosure, 
visible  to  the  west  from  Mervyn's  Tower  and  connecting 
with  a  rectangular  section  on  the  north  known  as  the 
garden.  The  latter  had  a  terrace  along  the  castle  wall, 
ten  feet  high  and  twelve  feet  wide,  covered  with  grass 
and  decorated  with  obelisks,  spheres,  and  stone  bears. 
At  each  end  was  an  arbour  of  trees  and  fragrant  flowers. 
The  garden  was  intersected  by  walks  or  alleys,  each  of 
which  had,  in  the  middle,  a  square  pilaster,  fifteen  feet 
high,  surmounted  by  an  orb.  In  the  centre  of  the 
garden  was  a  fountain  of  white  marble,  its  pedestal 
carved  with  allegorical  subjects  and  surmounted  by  two 
Atlantes,  back  to  back,  holding  a  ball,  from  which 
streams  of  water  poured  into  the  basin.  At  the  side  of 
the  terrace  was  a  large  aviary,  well  filled  with  birds. 

This  was  the  scene  of  the  dramatic  climax  toward 
which  the  novel  trends,  where  Queen  Elizabeth  finally 
confronts  Amy  Robsart  and  begins  to  unravel  the  whole 
story  of  Leicester's  duplicity. 

287 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

Aside  from  their  associations  with  the  novel,  the  ruins 
of  Kenilworth  seem  to  exert  a  strong  fascination.  It  is 
as  though  Nature  were  reasserting  herself.  A  thousand 
years  ago  the  domain  was  imtouched  by  the  hand  of 
man.  Then  came  kings  and  conquerors,  who  replaced 
the  pristine  beauty  with  artificial  structures.  Stately 
halls  and  palaces  sprang  into  existence.  Their  inner 
walls  were  himg  with  the  costliest  of  silks.  Their  floors 
were  covered  with  the  richest  carpets  from  the  looms  of 
the  Orient.  Chairs,  stools,  tables,  and  bedsteads  of 
elaborate  workmanship,  gorgeously  covered  with  lace 
and  embroidered  with  cloth  of  gold;  paintings;  musical 
instruments;  curiously  wrought  plate,  of  silver  and 
mother-of-pearl;  everything,  indeed,  that  the  handi- 
craft of  the  times  could  fashion  and  the  wealth  of  its 
owners  could  buy,  was  brought  to  the  castle  in  mute 
testimonial  of  man's  conception  of  beauty.  But  these 
things  passed.  Kings  and  queens  no  longer  made  the 
castle  their  home,  nor  honoured  it  with  even  a  brief 
visit.  The  people  seized  the  government  and,  jealous 
lest  royalty  should  again  find  shelter  there,  demolished 
the  costly  buildings.  For  the  sake  of  a  few  pounds  of 
lead,  the  roofs  were  torn  away  and  sold.  The  artificial 
dam  which  backed  up  the  waters  of  the  great  lake  was 
cut  and  the  waters  flowed  once  more  in  their  natural 
channels.  Nature  again  assimied  control.  The  formal 
gardens  became  a  green  pasture.  The  spacious  courts 
which  had  been  worn  hard  by  the  iron  hoofs  of  countless 
steeds  became  soft  again  with  a  covering  of  deep  and 
velvety  grass.  The  proud  war-horses  vanished  and  in 
their  place  the  gentle  sheep  appeared.  The  frightful 
scars  on  the  face  of  the  ruined  buildings  were  concealed 

288 


KENILWORTH 

beneath  a  rich  cloak  of  deep-green  ivy.   Wall-flowers 
sprang  out  of  the  broken  crevices  below  the  arches. 

All  is  peaceful,  all  is  still.  Nature  has  brought  to  the 
castle  her  own  conception  of  beauty,  and  once  more 
reigns  supreme. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE    PIRATE 

The  Shetland  and  Orkney  Islands,  seen  from  an  aero- 
plane at  great  height  on  a  calm  day,  would  resemble, 
I  fancy,  two  handf uls  of  gravel  thrown  upon  a  horizontal 
sheet  of  window-glass.  When  I  was  a  boy  they  meant 
little  to  me  except  a  few  black  specks  at  the  top  of  the 
map  of  Great  Britain.  Upon  examining  a  larger  map,  an 
active  lad  might  fancy  that  it  would  be  great  fun  to  skip 
from  one  island  to  another,  or  to  play  tag,  leaping  over 
the  numerous  indentations  in  the  coast.  The  Shetland 
group  is  broken  into  about  one  hundred  islands,  stretch- 
ing north  and  south  for  seventy  miles,  but  the  total  land 
surface  is  only  five  hundred  and  fifty-one  square  miles, 
or  less  than  half  the  area  of  the  State  of  Rhode  Island. 
The  Orkney  group,  lying  fifty  miles  farther  south,  is 
even  smaller,  its  fifty-six  islands  containing  only  three 
hundred  and  seventy-five  square  miles. 

Upon  closer  acquaintance,  however,  the  islands  do 
not  seem  so  diminutive.  Great  rugged  cliffs  tower  per- 
pendicularly to  enormous  heights  above  the  sea-level. 
Huge  broken  fragments  of  rock  form  gigantic  towers,  or 
stacks,  rising  out  of  the  sea  to  a  height  of  hundreds  of 
feet.  One  of  the  most  picturesque  of  these,  the  Old  Man 
of  Hoy,  would  tower  above  the  dome  of  St.  Peter's  in 
Rome.  Our  small  boy,  standing  on  the  edge  of  one  of 
these  cliffs,  looking  down  upon  the  ocean,  boiling  and 
seething  through  strange  caverns  and  natural  arches, 

290 


THE  PIRATE 

five  hundred  feet  below,  woidd  quickly  forget  his  desire 
to  leap  to  the  nearest  island.  The  wildness  of  the  scene 
is  accentuated  by  the  screaming  of  thousands  of  cormo- 
rants, guillemots,  and  gulls,  mingling  with  the  roar  of 
the  sea  and  the  mournful  soughing  of  the  wind. 

We  sailed  into  the  Sound  of  Bressay,  the  harbour  of 
Lerwick,  at  twelve  o'clock  on  a  Saturday  night  in  June. 
It  was  still  light  enough  to  see  plainly,  for  in  these  re- 
gions the  summer  sun  has  to  rise  so  early  in  the  morning 
that  he  does  not  think  it  worth  while  to  go  to  bed.  Ex- 
pecting to  land  at  the  wharf  of  some  quiet  Uttle  seaport 
town,  we  were  astonished  at  the  sight  which  the  twilight 
revealed.  A  forest  of  masts  crowded  the  sound,  which 
is  here  a  mile  wide.  It  was  at  the  height  of  the  herring- 
fishing,  and  nearly  a  thousand  vessels  had  arrived  to 
land  their  fish  and  enable  their  crews  to  spend  Sunday 
on  shore,  for  these  fishermen  observe  the  Sabbath, 
piously  or  otherwise,  as  a  day  of  rest.  All  the  remainder 
of  that  night  and  all  day  Sunday  the  stone  pavements  of 
Lerwick  resounded  to  the  clatter  of  wooden  shoes  worn 
by  the  Dutch  fishermen.  These  Dutchmen  are  largely 
responsible  for  the  importance  of  Lerwick,  having  dis- 
covered many  years  ago  that  it  would  be  a  convenient 
centre  for  the  curing  and  shipping  of  herring.  Other  na- 
tions are  also  represented,  particularly  Norway,  Sweden, 
Germany,  and  France,  while  the  native  Shetlanders 
still  retain  a  portion  of  the  trade,  though  relatively  a 
small  one.  Besides  filling  the  harbour,  the  vessels  were 
crowded  along  the  quays,  five  or  six  deep,  so  that 
the  crews  of  late  arrivals  could  reach  the  shore  only  by 
crossing  the  decks  of  several  other  ships.  As  soon  as 
possible  after  a  boat  arrives,  its  cargo  is  auctioned  off  at 

29Z 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

the  Fishmarket,  after  which  it  proceeds  to  one  of  the 
curing  stations.  Nearly  all  the  vessels  were  'steam- 
drifters/  which  have  superseded  the  old  sailing-boats. 
These  drifters  usually  carry  a  crew  of  ten  men.  Their 
engines  are  capable  of  ten  knots  an  hour,  sometimes  more. 
As  it  often  happens  that  profitable  shoals  of  fish  cannot 
be  found  without  travelUng  at  least  a  hundred  miles,  the 
advantage  over  the  old  sailing-ships  is  apparent. 

Crowds  of  people  flock  to  Lerwick  in  the  season  to 
look  for  emplo>Tnent  in  the  curing  estabHshments.  On 
the  httle  steamer  which  conveyed  us  thither,  we  no- 
ticed, in  various  out-of-the-way  comers  of  the  deck, 
what  seemed  to  be  piles  of  black  and  brown  rags.  They 
were  there  when  we  came  on  board  at  Aberdeen,  and 
remained  nearly  all  the  next  day.  They  turned  out  to 
be  women,  huddling  together  to  keep  warm,  and  covered 
only  by  their  thick  dresses  and  a  few  old  shawls.  They 
belonged  to  a  class  known  by  the  not  very  pleasing,  but 
thoroughly  descriptive,  name  of  gutters,  and  were  making 
their  annual  trip  to  Lerwick  to  spend  the  season  in  the 
great  curing  establishments.  These  sturdy  women  be- 
come very  expert.  Each  fish  is  eviscerated  with  two 
quick  motions  of  the  knife,  assisted  by  the  thumb  and 
fingers,  the  process  continuing  for  long  hours,  at  the 
rate  of  about  two  dozen  of  herring  a  minute. 

Lerwick,  the  capital  of  the  Shetland  Islands,  is  a  town 
of  picturesque  appearance.  When  it  was  built  there  were 
no  carts  in  the  islands,  and  no  occasion  for  any,  for  there 
were  no  roads.  A  long  zigzag  street  runs  the  length  of  the 
town,  near  the  shore,  and  is  the  main  business  thorough- 
fare. A  century  ago  it  would  have  been  impossible  to 
drive  an  ordinary  wagon  through  its  narrow  and  awk- 

292 


THE  PIRATE 

ward  turnings.  Now  the  buildings  are  sufficiently  altered 
to  admit  the  passage  of  teams,  but  in  many  places,  when 
a  vehicle  passes,  the  pedestrians  must  step  into  the 
nearest  doorways.  The  town  is  built  on  a  hillside,  so 
that  the  cross-streets  are  steep  lanes,  alternating  with 
short  flights  of  stairs.  They  have  rough  pavements,  and 
usually  a  rail  is  placed  along  the  buildings  for  the  safety 
of  the  pedestrians  in  icy  weather.  The  main  thorough- 
fare, varjdng  in  width  from  ten  to  twenty-five  feet,  is 
paved  with  flagging  and  its  stone  buildings,  though  small 
and  of  many  different  shapes,  have  a  substantial  look. 
Strolling  through  the  streets  of  Lerwick,  one  might  esti- 
mate the  population  at  about  five  thousand;  looking 
out  over  the  harbour  on  Sunday  morning  he  would  be 
inclined  to  change  the  figure  to  twenty  times  that  num- 
ber; but  again  looking  seaward  on  Monday  afternoon, 
when  the  fishing  fleet  has  disappeared,  he  would  doubt- 
less revert  to  his  original  estimate. 

The  men  of  the  islands  are  nearly  all  fishermen.  They 
work  hard  in  the  season,  which  lasts  from  June  to  Sep- 
tember, and  spend  their  money,  during  the  long  dark  days 
of  winter,  in  various  amusements.  Some  maintain  small 
farms  of  five  or  ten  acres  each,  known  as  crofts,  where 
they  raise  a  few  cattle  and  sheep.  Only  about  one  sixth 
of  the  land  is  under  cultivation,  and  of  this  about  three 
fourths  is  pasture  land.  The  soil  and  climate  of  the  Shet- 
lands  is  decidedly  unfavourable  to  agriculture.  The 
women  look  after  the  cattle,  till  the  soil  in  their  small 
kail-yards,  or  gardens,  bring  in  the  winter  supply  of  peat, 
and  attend  to  all  the  duties  of  housekeeping.  In  the 
intervals  of  their  busy  lives,  they  knit  shawls  and  other 
garments,  out  of  wool  which  they  card  and  spin  them- 

293 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

selves.  Indeed,  they  knit  nearly  all  the  time.  It  is  not 
uncommon  to  see  them  walking  along  the  roads  or  across 
the  moors,  with  heavy  baskets  of  peat  on  their  backs, 
the  knitting-needles  clicking  busily,  as  if  every  woman 
had  been  born  with  these  implements  in  her  hands. 

On  the  morning  after  our  arrival  we  set  out  to  discover 
the  scenes  of  'The  Pirate.'  Not  knowing  what  changes 
had  occurred  since  Scott's  visit  to  the  islands  in  1814, 
I  was  not  sure  whether  I  should  be  obliged  to  catch  a 
Shetland  pony  upon  which  to  travel  or  make  up  my  mind 
to  walk  the  twenty-seven  miles  between  Lerwick  and 
Sumburgh  Head,  over  a  roadless  country  of  rocks  and 
mountains,  morasses,  and  quagmires.  It  was  a  delight, 
therefore,  to  learn  not  only  that  there  was  a  good  road 
all  the  way,  but  that  Lerwick  now  boasted  the  posses- 
sion of  an  automobile,  the  only  one  on  the  islands.  I 
lost  no  time  in  hiring  the  car,  with  a  chauffeur  who  said 
he 'knew  the  road,'  though  he  afterwards  confessed  he 
had  never  been  over  it.  When  he  reached  the  moun- 
tainous regions,  where  the  road  dodges  in  and  out 
around  a  bewildering  succession  of  short  curves,  along 
the  edges  of  cliffs  from  which  we  could  look  down  upon 
rugged  rocks  or  into  the  lakes  and  voes  a  hundred  feet 
below,  speeding  the  machine  as  though  he  were  on  level 
ground  and  familiar  with  every  foot  of  it,  he  gave  us  a 
thrill  or  two  at  every  turn. 

We  started  out  in  the  general  direction  taken  by  Mor- 
daimt  Mertoun,  when  he  left  the  comfortable  home  of 
Magnus  Troil  and  his  two  pretty  daughters,  Minna  and 
Brenda,  to  return  to  the  forlorn  habitation  of  his  father 
at  Jarlshof .  There  was  just  enough  strong  wind,  with 
occasional  dashes  of  rain,  to  suggest  the  storm  which 

294 


M 


THE  PIRATE 

Mordaunt  faced.  But  he  had  to  find  his  way  around  the 
edges  of  the  numerous  inland  lakes  and  voes  by  a  kind 
of  instinct,  having  no  path  to  follow.  We  travelled,  on 
the  contrary,  over  a  good  hard  road,  one  of  the  improve- 
ments of  the  last  half-century.  Most  of  the  people  whom 
we  passed  had  never  seen  an  automobile.  They  not  only 
hastily  gave  us  the  road,  but  usually  climbed  high  up  on 
the  adjacent  banks,  sometimes  dragging  their  pony-carts 
after  them.  One  old  man,  when  he  saw  us  coming,  hastily 
took  his  horse  out  of  the  shafts,  and  rushed  up  the  side 
of  the  hill  with  the  animal,  to  a  safe  distance  of  a  him- 
dred  yards  before  he  dared  look  back.  The  horse  gazed 
upon  us  in  mild-eyed  curiosity,  but  the  man's  expression 
of  terror  suggested  that  he  might  have  seen  old  Noma 
of  the  Fitful  Head  herself  and  her  leering,  sneering, 
grinning,  and  goggling  dwarf,  Nick  Strumpfer,  flying 
along  in  a  vehicle  of  the  Devil's  own  invention.  Though 
not  particularly  grateful  for  the  implied  compliment,  we 
were  obliged  to  accept  some  such  explanation  of  the 
fact,  which  became  more  and  more  apparent,  that  the 
men  and  women  feared  us  far  more  than  did  their  horses. 
At  one  point  we  stopped  to  watch  some  women  gather- 
ing peat.  Only  the  wealthy  can  afford  to  import  coal 
and  there  is  no  wood  on  the  islands,  because  the  fierce 
winds  and  rocky  soil  prevent  the  growth  of  trees.  The 
universal  fuel  for  the  poor  is  therefore  peat,  which  seems 
to  have  been  providentially  provided.  For  a  fee  of  half- 
a-crown  a  year,  or  in  some  cases  a  little  more,  paid  to  some 
large  landowner,  each  family  may  take  a  winter's  supply. 
Every  crofter's  cottage  has  its  peat-stack  near  the  door. 
Peat  is  simply  decayed  moss,  the  most  common  variety 
of  which  is  called  Sphagnum.   It  is  a  small  plant  with 

295 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

thin,  scaly  leaves.  In  the  light  it  has  a  hue  of  vivid  green, 
changing  in  the  lower  and  darker  places  to  a  sickly  yel- 
low, and  finally  in  the  lowest  and  dampest  places,  where 
it  is  thoroughly  decayed,  to  a  deep  black.  This  decayed 
portion  is  the  peat,  which,  when  well  dried,  burns  with  a 
smouldering  fire,  of  greater  heat  than  an  equal  weight  of 
wood,  but  with  far  greater  volume  of  smoke.  The  peat- 
banks  resemble  miniature  terraces,  each  about  a  foot 
high.  The  cutting  is  done  with  a  curious  spade,  with 
long  narrow  blade,  called  a  twiscar  or  tuskar.  The  top 
layer,  consisting  of  coarse  dry  grasses  and  the  roots  of 
heather  and  other  plants,  is  of  no  value.  The  second 
layer  is  a  thick,  moist,  spongy  substance  of  a  dark  brown 
or  black  colour,  while  the  third  is  still  more  compressed, 
and,  but  for  the  moisture,  looks  somewhat  like  coal. 
Each  spadeful  resembles  a  big,  blackened  brick,  of  un- 
usual length.  They  are  laid  in  rows  to  dry  and  finally 
carried  away  to  the  crofter's  cottages,  generally  in  bas- 
kets. The  women  swing  their  heavy  loads  upon  their 
backs  and  trudge  long  distances.  Occasionally  the  peat 
is  loaded  upon  small  sledges  drawn  by  ponies.  We  saw 
an  old  woman,  with  a  very  pretty  granddaughter,  load- 
ing their  fuel  upon  one  of  these  sledges,  which  was 
drawn  by  a  little '  Sheltie'  with  furry  coat  of  pure  white. 
The  old  woman  kindly  allowed  me  to  take  her  picture, 
a  favour  which  two  other  women  declined  to  grant,  be- 
cause they  did  n't  have  on  their  best  clothes! 

Burgh-Westra,  the  home  of  Magnus  Troil  and  his 
daughters,  is  purely  fictitious.  It  was  supposed  to  be 
twenty  miles  from  Sumburgh  Head,  which  would  make 
it  seven  miles  south  of  Lerwick.  We  passed  numerous 
voes,  as  the  long  arms  of  the  sea  are  cajled,  any  of  which 

296 


THE  PIRATE 

would  have  answered  the  description  of  the  one  upon 
which  the  Udaller's  residence  was  situated,  and  we 
could  have  found  many  sheltered  places  among  the 
rocks,  corresponding  to  that  in  which  Mordaunt  Mer- 
toun  secretly  met  Brenda,  or  to  the  beach  of  white  sand 
beneath  a  precipice,  where  Minna  ofifered  to  pledge  her 
hand  to  the  pirate,  Cleveland,  by  the  mysterious  'pro- 
mise of  Odin.' 

Ten  miles  below  Burgh- Westra  was  Stourburgh,  where 
Triptolemus  Yellowley  and  Mistress  Baby  took  up 
their  residence.  This,  too,  is  fictitious.  Simiburgh  Head, 
on  the  contrary,  is  very  real.  It  is  a  rocky  promontory, 
three  hundred  feet  high,  at  the  southern  extremity  of  the 
Mainland,  as  the  largest  of  the  Shetland  Islands  is  called. 
Conflicting  tides,  sweeping  around  the  rugged  headland 
from  two  oceans,  make  a  dangerous  current,  called  the 
Roost  of  Sumburgh,  from  the  Icelandic  word,  rdst,  sig- 
nifying a  strong  tide.  It  has  been  a  menace  to  navigation 
for  centuries  and  the  scene  of  coimtless  shipwrecks. 
The  noveHst,  quite  naturally,  therefore,  made  it  the 
scene  of  the  wreck  and  rescue  of  Cleveland.  Such  a  place 
would  appeal  strongly  to  Scott,  whose  visit  to  the  islands 
was  made  on  a  lighthouse  yacht,  the  business  of  which 
was  to  inspect  just  such  points  of  danger.  He  climbed  the 
grassy  slope  to  the  top  of  the  head,  where  he  could  look 
down  from  the  loftiest  crag  upon  a  wild  mass  of  rocks 
below,  and  said  it  would  have  been  a  fine  situation  in 
which  to  compose  an  ode  to  the  Genius  of  Sumburgh  Head 
or  an  elegy  upon  a  cormorant  or  to  have  written  and 
spoken  madness  of  any  kind.  Instead  of  doing  this  he 
gave  vent  to  his  enthusiasm  by  sitting  down  on  the 
grass  and  sliding  a  few  hundred  feet  down  to  the  beach! 

297 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

Whether  the  performance  was  voluntary  or  involun- 
tary, he  did  not  see  fit  to  inform  us. 

A  short  distance  north  of  Simiburgh  Head,  and  in  full 
view  of  it,  we  foimd  the  ruins  of  Jarlshof ,  the  abode  of 
Basil  Mertoun  and  his  son.  It  was  a  poorly  built  house 
of  rough,  unhewn  stone,  and  even  at  its  best  must  have 
been  desolate  enough.  Its  age  and  history  are  not  def- 
initely known.  Robert  Stewart,  a  son  of  James  V,  who 
received  the  earldom  of  the  Orkney  and  Shetland  Islands 
from  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  in  1565,  may  have  been  the 
builder.  He  is  known  to  have  dwelt  in  the  house,  as  did 
his  son,  Patrick,  who  abandoned  Jarlshof  after  building 
the  Castle  of  Scalloway. 

When  Scott  visited  Sumburgh  he  saw  nothing  in  Jarls- 
hof more  interesting  than  a  ruined  dwelhng-house, 
partly  buried  by  the  sand,  and  once  the  residence  of  one 
of  the  Orkney  earls.  But  directly  beneath  his  feet, 
though  he  knew  it  not,  was  an  object  that  would  have 
delighted  his  antiquarian  instincts  more  than  anything 
else  in  the  islands.  He  gave  great  attention  to  the  old 
Pictish  castles  or  brocks,  especially  to  a  small  one  on 
the  shores  of  a  lake  near  Lerwick,  called  by  him  Cleik- 
him-in  (CUckimin),  and  later  to  the  larger  tower  on  the 
island  of  Mousa.  Here  at  Jarlshof,  though  the  fact  was 
imknown  to  the  inhabitants  at  the  time  of  Scott's  visit, 
there  was  once  a  series  of  brocks,  as  old  as  Mousa  or 
Clickimin,  and  far  more  extensive. 

This  interesting  discovery  was  made  in  1897.  Mr. 
John  Bruce,  the  principal  landowner  in  the  parish  of 
Kinrossness,  upon  whose  property  the  ruin  of  Jarlshof 
stands,  noticing  the  encroachments  of  the  sea  after  a 
storm,  began  to  suspect  the  existence  of  masonry  be- 

298 


THE  PIRATE 

neath  the  old  castle.  Two  friends  who  were  visiting  him 
saw  what  seemed  to  be  jutting  ends  of  walls.  They  threw 
off  their  coats  and  began  to  excavate,  continuing  with 
enthusiasm  until  they  discovered,  to  their  great  surprise, 
evidences  of  a  far  more  extensive  building  than  they  had 
suspected.  Mr.  Bruce  then  engaged  labourers  and  con- 
tinued the  work  of  excavation  for  five  years. 

The  Castle  of  Jarlshof  was  erected  on  top  of  an  older 
structure,  the  existence  of  which  was  evidently  entirely 
unknown  to  the  builder.  The  excavations  reveal  a  cir- 
cular tower  sixty-three  feet  in  diameter,  similar  in  design 
to  the  other  Shetland  brochs,  but  larger  at  the  base.  Its 
main  wall  is  pierced  with  a  passage  three  feet  wide, 
evidently  leading  to  a  staircase,  and  it  has,  within  its 
thickness  several  chambers.  Half  of  the  broch  has  been 
swept  away  by  the  sea.  On  the  west  are  portions  of  three 
smaller  buildings,  resembling  beehives  in  form,  the  larg- 
est of  which  is  oval  in  shape  with  a  length  of  thirty- 
four  feet  and  a  width  of  nineteen.  Outside  of  this  struc- 
ture was  a  great  wall,  varying  from  ten  to  twenty  feet 
thick.  It  has  been  imcovered  for  a  distance  of  seventy 
feet.  Its  shape  suggests  that  it  may  have  been  part  of 
a  great  circular  wall  surrounding  the  whole  group  of  build- 
ings, of  which  the  central  tower  was  the  strongest  and 
most  important.  Away  back  in  the  eighth  or  ninth  cen- 
tury, some  Pictish  ruler  may  have  constructed  this  im- 
mense fortress  at  the  southern  end  of  the  islands,  to 
repel  attacks  by  sea,  and  to  afford  a  refuge  to  the  in- 
habitants in  case  of  danger.  Had  Walter  Scott  known  of 
its  existence,  he  would  have  fairly  revelled  in  the  dis- 
covery, and  perhaps  the  plot  of  'The  Pirate'  might 
have  been  different. 

299 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

Standing  on  the  sands  at  Jarlshof,  we  could  see,  toward 
the  northwest,  the  towering  promontory  of  the  Fitful 
Head,  rising  nine  hundred  and  twenty-eight  feet  above 
the  sea.  This  seemed  a  little  puzzling  at  first,  for  Scott 
places  the  residence  of  Noma  of  the  Fitful  Head  at  the 
extreme  northwestern  edge  of  the  Mainland.  The  Pict- 
ish  burgh,  or  broch,  which  Noma  is  supposed  to  have 
inhabited,  is  on  the  island  of  Mousa,^  off  the  eastern 
coast  about  ten  miles  north  of  Smnburgh  Head.  The 
Wizard,  for  a  very  good  reason,  set  the  old  tower  on 
the  top  of  a  great  headland,  ten  miles  to  the  south- 
west, and  then  moved  the  combination  fifty  miles  to  the 
north. 

The  dwelling  of  Noma,  therefore,  which  to  the  casual 
reader  seems  so  weird,  was  a  very  real  thing.   It  repre- 


8^ft. 


2t  ff. 


844  fl>. 


^    CROSS-SECTION  OF  THE  BROCH  OF  MOUSA. 

a,  a.  Rooms  in  circiilaf  wall,  connected  by  a  rude  spiral  stair. 

b,  b.  Windows  opening  into  the  inner  court. 

300 


THE  PIRATE 

sents  one  of  the  earliest  forms  of  architecture,  a  rude 
attempt  to  construct  a  dwelling  of  loose  stones,  without 
cement  or  timber,  and  with  very  slight  knowledge  of  the 
art  of  building.  The  Norsemen  did  not  come  to  the 
Shetland  Islands  until  late  in  the  eighth  century  and 
they  found  many  of  these  brochs  already  in  existence. 
The  most  perfect  of  them  all  is  the  one  on  the  island  of 
Mousa.  It  measures  fifty-three  feet  in  diameter  at  the 
base  and  thirty-eight  feet  at  the  top.  It  is  forty-two  feet 
high.  The  interior  of  what  appears,  externally,  to  be 
a  rather  large  building,  is  less  than  twenty  feet  in  diam- 
eter owing  to  the  peculiar  construction  of  the  walls, 
which  are  really  double.  They  are  seventeen  feet  wide 
at  the  base.  Inside  the  walls  is  a  kind  of  rude  stair,  or 
inclined  plane,  winding  around  the  building,  and  a  series 
of  very  narrow  galleries  or  chambers.  These  receive  air 
through  openings  in  the  inner  wall,  but,  excepting  the 
door,  there  is  no  aperture  in  the  outer  wall. 

This  is  the  real  building  which  Scott  made  the  residence 
of  Noma  because  of  his  profound  interest  in  it  as  a  struc- 
ture of  unknown  antiquity.  But  standing  in  full  view, 
firmly  planted  on  a  solid  and  easily  accessible  rock,  its 
situation  was  too  commonplace  for  the  requirements  of 
the  story.  He  knew  well  how  to  create  quite  a  differ- 
ent impression,  by  supposing  the  same  kind  of  house 
situated  in  a  wild  and  remote  locality,  on  a  ragged  piece 
of  rock  split  off  from  the  main  plateau  and  leaning  out- 
ward over  the  sea  as  though  the  slightest  weight  would 
tumble  the  whole  structure,  rock  and  all,  into  the  ocean. 
Then,  to  supply  the  needed  air  of  mystery,  he  fancied  it 
occupied  by  a  crazy  old  witch,  claiming  sovereignty  over 
the  winds  and  the  seas ;  her  servant  an  ugly,  big-mouthed, 

301 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

tongueless  dwarf,  with  malignant  features  and  a  horrible, 
discordant  laugh;  her  favourite  pet  an  uncouth  and  un- 
canny trained  seal;  her  companions  the  unseen  demons  of 
the  air;  and  her  occupations  the  utterance  of  sibylline 
prophecies  and  the  incantation  of  weird  spells.  Clearly, 
all  this  would  have  been  impossible  on  the  island  of 
Mousa,  so  the  author  simply  adjusted  the  geography  of 
the  country  to  the  requirements  of  his  romance. 

Although  Lerwick  is  now  the  only  town  of  importance 
in  the  Shetlands,  the  village  of  Scalloway,  directly  across 
the  Mainland  on  the  eastern  coast,  once  held  that  dis- 
tinction. It  is  picturesquely  situated  on  an  arm  of  the 
sea.  Approaching  from  the  east,  we  paused  at  the  top 
of  the  hill  to  look  down  upon  it.  Just  below  was  one  of 
those  long  narrow  voes,  so  common  in  these  islands. 
The  whale-hunt  described  in  'The  Pirate'  came  in- 
stantly to  mind.  It  was  easy  to  understand  how  one 
of  these  monsters  might  come  in  at  high  tide  and  find 
himself  stranded  at  the  ebb.  At  the  mouth  of  this  voe 
and  circling  around  a  small  bay  of  its  own  lies  the  quaint 
little  village.  At  the  extremity  of  a  point  of  land  between 
the  voe  and  the  bay,  rising  higher  than  any  of  the  sur- 
rounding buildings,  stands  the  ruined  Castle  of  Scallo- 
way. It  was  built  in  1600  by  Patrick  Stewart,  the  Earl 
of  Orkney  to  whom  I  have  previously  referred.  He  was 
the  'Pate  Stewart'  whose  name  is  still  a  synonym  on  the 
islands  for  all  that  is  cruel  and  oppressive.  He  com- 
pelled the  people  to  do  his  bidding.  They  were  obliged 
to  work  in  the  quarries,  drag  the  stone  to  the  town,  build 
the  house  as  best  they  could  without  proper  appliances, 
and  perform  any  kind  of  menial  service  he  might  exact. 
For  this  they  received  a  penny  a  day  if  the  Earl  felt  good- 

302 


1 

HI 

W'  1 

1 

1  f ' '  fl 

]%  B 

THE  PIRATE 

natured.  Otherwise  they  received  nothing.  If  they  dis- 
pleased him  they  were  thrown  into  dungeons  and  not 
infrequently  hanged.  A  huge  iron  ring  near  the  top  of  the 
castle,  which  was  used  for  this  purpose,  still  bears  wit- 
ness to  Pate  Stewart's  cruelty.  He  is  said  to  have 
boasted  that  the  ring  seldom  lacked  a  tassel.  As  men- 
tioned in  'The  Pirate,'  the  inhabitants  only  remem- 
bered one  thing  to  his  credit,  and  that  was  a  law  which 
accorded  well  with  Patrick's  own  ideas  of  the  rights  of 
people  to  possess  their  own  property.  This  was  the  law, 
so  dear  to  boyish  hearts,  of  'finders  keepers.'  Property 
washed  up  from  wrecks  at  sea  belonged  to  those  who 
fotmd  it.  There  was  a  prevalent  superstition  that  to 
save  a  drowning  person  was  unlucky,  and  no  doubt  this 
was  one  of  the  results  of  Pate  Stewart's  ruling.  If  a  man 
was  not  rescued  he  could  claim  no  rights  of  property. 
It  was  this  superstition,  so  prevalent  on  the  islands,  that 
Scott  wove  into  his  plot,  making  the  rescue  of  Cleveland 
and  the  saving  of  his  chest  an  extremely  unlucky  occur- 
rence for  Mordaunt  Mertoun. 

We  left  Lerwick  at  midnight  and  stood  on  deck  for 
an  hour  enjoying  the  scenery  by  twilight.  The  little 
steamer  was  loaded  to  the  gunwales  with  barrels  of  fish, 
piled  upon  the  decks  in  every  nook  and  comer,  so  that 
there  was  scarcely  room  to  stand,  making  us  feel  like  two 
very  insignificant  bits  of  merchandise  in  the  midst  of 
such  a  valuable  cargo  of  good  salt  herring.  In  the  morn- 
ing we  reached  the  port  of  Kirkwall,  the  capital  and 
chief  city  of  the  Orkneys. 

Instead  of  a  long  busy  quay,  lined  with  hundreds  of 
steam-drifters  as  at  Lerwick,  we  saw  an  almost  empty 
harbour  and  a  dock,  which,  but  for  the  arrival  of  our 

303 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

own  vessel,  would  have  been  deserted.  The  permanent 
population  of  the  two  towns  is  about  the  same,  Kirkwall 
having  the  advantage  of  the  better  agricultural  facilities 
of  the  Orkneys.  Its  streets  are  narrow  like  those  in  Ler- 
wick. Bridge  Street,  up  which  the  pirates  marched  so 
insolently  to  meet  the  city  magistrates,  and  down  which 
they  swaggered  again,  dragging  the  terrified  Triptole- 
mus  Yellowley,  is  one  of  the  narrowest  of  thoroughfares. 
It  is  commonly  said  that  here,  *  two  wheelbarrows  trem- 
ble as  they  meet.'  At  the  end,  or  'top'  of  this  street  we 
turned  to  the  right  and  found  ourselves  in  Albert  Street, 
one  striking  feature  of  which  is  a  solitary  tree.  It  was 
said,  enviously,  in  Lerwick,  that  the  people  of  Kirkwall 
were  so  proud  of  this  wonderful  vegetation  that  they  took 
it  in  every  night  and  set  it  out  again  in  the  morning. 

Kirkwall  is  far  more  interesting  than  Lerwick  because 
of  its  historical  associations,  most  of  which  centre  about 
the  Cathedral  of  St.  Magnus.  The  ancient  building  looks 
almost  modem  as  you  approach  the  wide  plaza  opening 
out  from  Broad  Street.  Although  older  than  Melrose, 
Dryburgh,  Holyrood,  and  Dunfermline  abbeys,  all  of 
which  are  now  in  ruins,  and  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  it  is 
built  of  the  soft  red  and  yellow  sandstone,  it  still  stands, 
complete  and  proudly  erect.  When  Melrose  was  rebuilt, 
through  the  munificence  of  Robert  Bruce  in  the  four- 
teenth century,  the  central  portions  of  St.  Magnus  had 
been  standing  for  two  centuries.  In  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury, when  an  English  king  was  battering  down  the  fine 
old  Gothic  churches  of  Scotland,  the  people  of  Kirkwall 
not  only  protected  their  cathedral,  but  witnessed  the 
addition  of  some  of  its  finest  features,  notably  the  west 
doorway.  In  earlier  times  it  had  a  spire,  which,  judging 

304 


THE  PIRATE 

from  the  massive  colmmis  upon  which  it  rested,  must 
have  been  an  imposing  one.  The  steeple  was  burned  in 
167 1,  and  never  replaced,  except  by  a  stimipy  little 
tower  which  completely  spoils  the  effect  of  an  otherwise 
impressive  building. 

The  story  of  the  foimding  of  St.  Magnus  is  one  of  the 
most  interesting  of  the  sagas  of  the  Orkneys.  Hakon  and 
Magnus,  both  grandsons  of  the  great  Earl  Thorfinn, 
were  joint  rulers  of  the  islands.  Hakon  was  ambitious 
and  treacherous;  Magnus  was  virtuous,  kind-hearted, 
and  well-beloved.  By  a  wicked  conspiracy  of  Hakon  and 
his  associates,  the  saintly  Magnus  was  murdered  in 
the  island  of  Egilsay  in  11 15,  bravely  meeting  his  death 
as  a  noble  martyr.  Hakon  died  soon  after,  and  his  son 
Paul  inherited  the  earldom.  Another  claimant  appeared 
in  the  person  of  Rognvald,  a  nephew  of  Earl  Magnus, 
now  called  *  Saint'  Magnus,  a  bold  and  skilful  warrior 
and  a  born  leader  of  men.  Before  proceeding  against 
Paul,  Rognvald  accepted  the  advice  of  his  father,  who 
told  him  not  to  trust  to  his  own  strength,  but  to  make 
a  vow,  that  if,  by  the  grace  of  St.  Magnus,  he  should 
succeed  in  gaining  his  inheritance,  he  would  build  and 
dedicate  to  him  a  minster  in  Kirkwall,  more  magnificent 
in  size  and  splendour  than  any  other  in  the  North.  With 
the  powerful  but  mysterious  assistance  of  Sweyn  As- 
leif  son, '  the  last  of  the  Vikings,'  who  seized  Earl  Paul  and 
carried  him  away  bodily.  Earl  Rognvald  became  the 
sole  ruler  of  the  earldom.  He  set  to  work  at  once  to  fulfil 
his  vow,  and  began  work  upon  the  cathedral  in  the  year 

1137- 

The  massiveness  of  the  building  is  best  realized  by 
looking  into  the  nave  from  the  west  doorway.  The  roof 

30s 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

is  supported  by  immense  round  pillars  of  red  sandstone, 
seven  on  each  side.  On  the  north  and  south  of  these  pil- 
lars are  long  aisles,  the  walls  of  which  are  covered  with 
ancient  tombstones,  taken  up  from  the  floor  and  set  on 
end.  In  the  north  aisle  is  a  mort-brod,  or  death-board, 
inscribed  with  the  name  of  a  departed  Orcadian,  whose 
picture  is  shown,  sitting  on  the  ground  in  his  grave- 
clothes,  a  spade  over  his  shoulder,  an  hour-glass  in  his 
lap,  and  a  joyful  grin  on  his  face.  On  the  reverse  is  the 
following:  — 

Below 

Doeth  lye 

If  ye  wold  trye 

Come  read  upon 

This  brod 

The  Corps  of  on  Robert 

Nicholsone  who*  soul'  above 

With  God. 

He  being  70  years  of  age  ended 

This  mortal  life  and  50  of  that  he 

Was  married  to  Jeane  Davidson 

His  wife.  Betwixt  them  2 

12  children  had,  whereof 

5  left  behind  the 

other  7  with  him  's 

In  Heaven,  who 's 

Joy's  shall 

never 

end 

In  the  south  aisle  are  some  curious  tombstones,  most  of 
them  having  carved  representations  of  the  skull  and 
crossbones.  The  death's  heads  are  all  much  enlarged 
on  the  left  side,  the  Orcadian  idea  being  that  the  soul 
escapes  at  death  through  the  left  ear. 

306 


THE  PIRATE 

The  pirate,  Cleveland,  it  will  be  remembered,  was  kept 
a  prisoner  in  these  aisles,  and  was  walking  about  discon- 
solately when  Minna  Troil  entered.  Concealed  from  the 
guards  at  the  door  by  the  huge  pillars,  they  planned  an 
escape.  Suddenly  Noma  of  the  Fitful  Head  mysteri- 
ously appeared,  and  warning  Minna  that  her  plan  would 
lead  to  certain  discovery,  sent  the  young  woman  away. 
Noma  then  led  Cleveland  through  a  secret  passage  out 
of  the  church  to  a  place  of  safety.  In  the  south  aisle 
there  is  a  low  arch  which  formerly  led,  so  it  is  said, 
through  a  secret  undergroimd  passage  to  the  Bishop's 
Palace  across  the  street.  This  fact  doubtless  suggested 
to  the  novelist  the  means  by  which  Noma  might  spirit 
away  the  captive  pirate. 

Across  the  street  which  runs  by  the  south  side  of  the 
cathedral  are  the  ruins  of  two  large  mansions.  The  Bish- 
op's Palace,  which  is  not  mentioned  in  'The  Pirate,'  is 
chiefly  interesting  from  the  fact  that  Hakon  Hakonson, 
the  last  of  the  great  sea-kings  of  Norway,  after  his 
splendid  fleet  had  been  driven  on  the  rocks  by  the  fury 
of  a  great  storm  and  there  almost  annihilated  by  the 
fierce  onset  of  the  Scottish  warriors,  sought  refuge 
within  its  walls,  only  to  die  a  few  days  later.  This  was 
in  1263.  How  much  older  the  palace  is,  nobody  knows. 

The  Earl's  Palace,  with  its  groimds,  occupies  the  op- 
posite corner,  a  narrow  street  intervening  between  the 
two  ruins.  The  enclosure  is  filled  with  sycamores  and 
other  trees,  thus  refuting  the  slander  of  the  envious 
Shetlanders.  In  fact,  when  we  came  to  look  for  them, 
we  found  more  than  one  enclosure  in  Kirkwall  which 
could  boast  of  fairly  good-sized  trees.  The  castle  is,  or 
was,  a  very  substantial  building,  with  fine  broad  stair- 

307 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

ways  and  many  turrets.  Seen  from  the  south,  across 
the  bowling-green,  it  might  be  taken  for  the  ruin  of  some 
large  church.  It  was  built  by  the  notorious  Patrick 
Stewart,  the  same  earl  who  abandoned  Jarlshof,  and 
compelled  the  people  to  build  him  a  larger  castle  at 
Scalloway.  By  the  same  methods,  he  constructed  the 
palace  at  Kirkwall,  forcing  the  people  to  quarry  the 
stone  and  do  all  his  work  without  pay.  An  example  of 
his  tyranny  was  related  to  me  by  a  resident  of  Kirkwall. 
According  to  this  tale,  the  Earl  coveted  a  piece  of  land 
adjoining  the  palace,  with  which  the  owner  refused  to 
part.  Patrick,  not  accustomed  to  be  thwarted  in  his 
plans,  was  quick  to  apply  the  remedy.  He  secretly 
caused  some  casks  of  brandy  to  be  buried  in  the  desired 
tract.  In  due  time  he  began  to  complain  that  somebody 
was  stealing  his  liquor  and  finally  charged  his  neighbour 
with  the  offence.  The  casks  were  then  triumphantly 
*  discovered '  as  proof  positive.  Inasmuch  as  the  Earl  was 
his  own  judge,  jury,  and  court  of  appeals,  the  poor  in- 
nocent landowner  was  quickly  condemned,  hanged,  and 
his  property  confiscated.  Many  a  man  made  over  a  part 
of  his  land  to  the  Earl  on  demand,  having  no  alternative. 
We  noticed  many  portholes  imder  the  windows, 
showing  that  the  castle  was  intended  to  serve  as  a  fort- 
ress as  well  as  a  mansion.  This  was  the  secret  of  the 
Earl's  final  downfall.  The  authorities  of  Edinburgh 
could  go  to  sleep  when  the  Earl  of  the  far-distant  islands 
merely  oppressed  his  own  people,  but  to  fortify  a  castle 
against  the  King  was  an  act  of  treason.  When  Patrick 
Stewart  and  his  son  Robert  prepared  to  maintain  their 
independence  by  fortifying  not  only  the  castle  but  the 
cathedral,  Scotland  woke  up.    The  Earl  of  Caithness 

308 


THE  PIRATE 

was  sent  against  the  rebels.  Robert,  who  was  in  com- 
mand, withstood  the  siege  for  one  month,  when  he  was 
overcome,  carried  to  Edinburgh,  and  hanged.  Patrick 
took  refuge  in  the  Castle  of  Scalloway  and  for  a  time 
baffled  his  pursuers  by  hiding  in  a  secret  chamber.  He 
could  not  resist  the  consolation  of  tobacco  and  took  a 
few  surreptitious  pulls  at  his  pipe,  while  the  searchers 
were  in  the  house.  The  smoke,  or  the  smell,  betrayed 
him.  He  was  speedily  taken  to  Edinburgh,  where  he 
paid  the  penalty  on  the  gallows  of  a  long  career  of 
tyranny,  cruelty,  extortion,  confiscation,  robbery,  and 
murder. 

The  most  interesting  room  in  the  Earl's  castle  is  the 
banqueting-hall,  which  had  a  high  roof  or  ceiling  and 
was  hghted  on  the  south  by  three  tall  but  narrow  arched 
windows.  On  one  side  is  a  huge  fireplace  with  two  arches, 
the  lower  one  flat.  Supporting  this  curious  combination 
are  two  pillars,  on  which  are  carved  the  initials  P.E.O., 
meaning  Patrick,  Earl  of  Orkney,  the  letters  being  still 
legible.  In  this  room  Cleveland  is  supposed  to  have  met 
Jack  Bunce  upon  his  return  to  Kirkwall. 

The  two  pirates,  after  leaving  the  castle,  walked  to 
Wideford  Hill,  two  miles  from  the  town,  where  the  Fair 
of  St.  OUa  was  being  held.  The  annual  Lammas  Market 
or  Fair  at  this  place  is  still  one  of  the  institutions  of  Kirk- 
wall, although  no  longer  so  important  as  in  the  time  of 
'The  Pirate.' 

'  If  Scott  took  hberties  with  the  geography  of  Shetland, 
he  was  scrupulously  exact  in  his  treatment  of  the  Ork- 
neys. Every  movement  of  the  brig  of  Magnus  Troil, 
as  well  as  those  of  the  pirate  ship,  can  be  traced  on  the 
map.   The  latter,  it  will  be  recalled,  sailed  around  to 

309 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

Stromness,  where  she  dropped  anchor.  Two  inland  lakes, 
known  as  the  Loch  of  Stennis  and  the  Loch  of  Harray, 
now  favourite  resorts  for  anglers,  lie  northeast  of  the 
town.  They  are  separated  by  a  narrow  causeway  called 
the  Bridge  of  Brogar.  This  is  the  place  where  the 
pirates  landed  their  boat  on  the  night  of  the  final  trag- 
edy of  the  story.  We  found  the  locality  one  of  the  most 
interesting  in  the  islands. 

At  the  entrance  of  the  bridge  stands  a  huge,  rough- 
hewn  stone,  eighteen  feet  high,  known  as  the  'watch- 
stone'  or  'sentinel.'  This  is  the  largest  of  the  'stones  of 
Stennis,'  a  collection  of  ancient  monoliths  comparable 
in  Great  Britain  only  to  those  of  Stonehenge.  At  the 
farther  end  of  the  bridge  is  the  so-called  '  Circle  of  the 
Sun,'  a  ring  about  one  hundred  and  twenty  yards  in 
diameter,  surroimded  by  a  trench  about  six  feet  deep. 
The  stones  composing  this  circle  are  from  eight  to  sixteen 
feet  high  and  of  irregular  shape.  One  of  them  is  at  least 
five  or  six  feet  wide.  There  were  about  forty  stones  origi- 
nally, but  now  only  fifteen  remain  standing.  A  smaller 
group,  known  as  the '  Circle  of  the  Moon,'  but  composed 
of  larger  stones,  stands  in  a  field  near  the  eastern  end 
of  the  bridge.  A  horizontal  stone,  laid  on  top  of  these 
vertical  ones,  makes  a  rude  table  or  altar.  This  may  have 
been  a  place  of  druidical  sacrifices,  if  the  most  prevalent 
belief  is  to  be  accepted,  or  possibly  the  work  of  Scandi- 
navian hands.  It  was  by  this  table  of  stone  that  Minna 
stood,  to  meet  and  bid  farewell  to  her  lover,  looking  like 
a  druidical  priestess,  or,  if  the  Scandinavian  theory  be 
accepted,  'she  might  have  seemed  a  descended  vision  of 
Freya,  the  spouse  of  the  Thundering  Deity,  before  whom 
some  bold  sea-king  or  champion  bent  with  an  awe 

310 


THE  PIRATE 

which  no  mere  mortal  terror  could  have  inflicted  upon 
him.' 

The  Stone  of  Odin  formerly  stood  on  the  east  side  of 
this  circle.  Minna  had  offered  to  pledge  her  faith  to 
Cleveland  by  the  'promise  of  Odin'  and  Noma  of  the 
Fitful  Head  had  married  her  lover  by  the  same  rite.  This 
stone  differed  from  the  others  only  in  the  fact  that  it  had 
a  round  hole  near  the  base.  Lovers  who  found  it  incon- 
venient to  be  married  by  a  priest,  or  who  wished  to  plight 
their  troth  by  some  imusually  solemn  vow,  resorted  to 
this  stone,  and  a  promise  here  given  was  regarded  as 
sacred  and  never  to  be  broken.  The  marriage  cere- 
mony was  peculiar.  The  couple  first  visited  the  Circle 
of  the  Moon,  where  the  woman,  in  the  presence  of  the 
man,  knelt  and  prayed  to  the  god  Woden,  or  Odin,  that 
he  would  enable  her  to  perform  all  her  obligations  and 
promises.  They  next  went  to  the  Circle  of  the  Sun,  where 
the  man  in  like  manner  made  his  prayers.  Then  they 
returned  to  the  Stone  of  Odin,  where,  the  man  standing 
on  one  side  and  the  woman  on  the  other,  they  joined 
hands  through  the  hole  and  took  upon  themselves  the 
solemn  vows  of  matrimony.  Such  a  marriage  could  never 
be  broken. 

Scott  visited  the  Stones  of  Stennis  in  1814.  Had  he 
arrived  a  year  later  he  would  not  have  seen  the  Stone  of 
Odin,  for  some  irreverent  Orcadian  broke  it  up,  probably 
to  help  build  the  foundation  of  his  cottage. 

Leaving,  with  some  reluctance,  these  relics  of  a  civili- 
zation more  than  a  thousand  years  old,  we  resumed  our 
journey  toward  Stromness.  The  town  lies  on  the  slope  of 
a  hill,  resembling  Lerwick  in  this  respect  and  in  the 
closeness  of  the  houses  to  the  sea.  Some  of  the  buildings 

3" 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

stand  so  near  the  water  that  parts  of  the  bay  look  like  a 
miniature  Venice.  Our  motor-car  frequently  occupied 
the  entire  width  of  the  street,  sidewalks  and  all,  as  we 
twisted  our  tortuous  course  for  a  mile  along  the  main 
thoroughfare.  From  the  high  ground  behind  the  town, 
we  had  a  fine  view  of  the  sea,  and  across  the  sound,  the 
great  towering  island  of  Hoy,  the  highest  and  most 
impressive  of  all  the  Orkney  group.  On  the  western  side 
a  long  line  of  precipitous  cUfifs,  rising  a  thousand  feet 
above  the  sea,  opposes  an  unbroken  front  to  the  full  force 
of  the  Atlantic.  At  the  western  end  as  we  saw  it  from 
above  Stromness,  the  rocks  form  the  profile  of  a  man's 
face,  not  so  stern  as  that  in  the  Franconia  Notch  of  the 
White  Mountains,  but  having  rather  a  more  genial  look. 
It  is  said  to  resemble  Sir  Walter  Scott,  a  likeness  which, 
I  confess,  I  could  see  only  when  I  shut  my  eyes  and 
thought  of  Chantrey's  bust. 

The  island  of  Hoy  plays  an  important  part  in  'The 
Pirate.'  It  was  the  original  home  of  Noma  when  the 
old  witch  was  a  handsome  yoimg  girl.  The  Dwarfie. 
Stone,  where  she  met  the  demon  Trolld,  and  bartered 
her  life's  happiness  for  the  power  to  control  the  tem- 
pests and  the  waves  of  the  sea,  is  on  the  southwest  slope 
of  Ward  Hill,  the  highest  peak  of  which  rises  to  a  height 
of  over  fifteen  hundred  feet.  It  is  in  a  desolate  peat- 
bog, two  miles  from  the  nearest  human  habitation.  The 
stone  is  about  thirty  feet  long  and  half  as  wide.  Hol- 
lowed out  of  the  interior  is  a  chamber,  with  two  beds, 
one  of  them  a  little  over  five  feet  long.  It  is  difficult  to 
conceive  why  any  human  being  should  have  taken  the 
trouble  to  cut  out  the  rock  for  a  hermitage  or  place  of 
refuge,  or  why  any  one  should  seek  so  desolate  an  abode. 

312 


>,>-  rpjjp,  PIRATE 

Tradition  therefore  affirmed  that  the  rock  was  fashioned 
by  spirit  hands  and  was  the  dwelling  of  the  elfin  dwarf, 
TroUd.  It  was  to  this  island  that  Noma  conducted 
Mordaunt  after  he  had  received  a  wound  at  the  hands 
of  Cleveland. 

It  was  at  Stromness  that  Scott,  in  1814,  made  the 
acquaintance  of  Bessie  Millie,  an  aged  dame  who  made 
her  Uving  by  selling  favourable  winds  to  mariners  at  the 
reasonable  price  of  sixpence  each.  The  touch  of  insan- 
ity, and  the  strong  influence  she  possessed  over  the 
natives  of  the  island,  who  feared  her  power,  were  strongly 
suggestive  of  Noma.  This  old  sibyl  related  to  Scott  the 
story  of  John  Gow,  whose  boyhood  was  spent  in  Strom- 
ness. This  daring  individual  had  gone  to  sea  at  an  early 
age  and  returned  to  the  home  of  his  youth,  a  pirate, 
commanding  a  former  English  galley  of  two  hundred 
tons  which  he  had  captured  and  renamed  the  'Re- 
venge.' He  boldly  came  ashore  and  mingled  with  the 
people,  giving  dancing-parties  in  the  village  of  Strom- 
ness. Before  his  real  character  was  known  he  became 
engaged  to  a  young  woman,  and  the  two  plighted  their 
troth  at  the  Stone  of  Odin.  The  houses  of  his  former 
neighbours  were  plundered  and  many  acts  of  insolence 
and  violence  committed.  At  length,  through  the  exertions 
of  a  former  schoolmate,  Gow  was  captured  with  his  entire 
crew  and  speedily  executed  at  London.  The  young 
woman  journeyed  to  London,  too,  for  the  purpose  of 
touching  her  former  lover's  dead  body.  In  that  way 
only,  according  to  the  superstition  of  her  country,  could 
she  obtain  a  release  from  her  vow  and  avoid  a  visit  from 
the  pirate's  ghost,  in  case  she  should  ever  marry.  Gow's 
brief  career  furnished  an  excellent  model  for  Cleveland, 

313 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

though  the  author  endowed  his  '  pirate '  with  some  very 
commendable  qualities  which  the  prototype  probably 
did  not  possess. 

Bessie  Millie,  the  old  hag  of  Stromness,  needed,  in 
addition  to  her  own  eccentricities,  only  a  few  touches  of 
the  gipsy  nature,  to  make  her  a  good '  original '  for  Noma. 
A  local  preacher  in  the  parish  of  Tingwall,  whom  Scott 
met  on  his  visit  to  Shetland,  is  said  to  have  suggested 
Triptolemus  Yellowley.  Three  or  four  families,  in  whose 
homes  the  novelist  was  a  welcome  visitor,  have  laid 
claim  to  the  honour  of  supplying  the  *  originals '  of  Minna 
and  Brenda  Troil.  These  two  delightful  characters, 
however,  were  no  doubt  intended  merely  to  embody  the 
ideal  of  perfect  sisterly  affection,  and  external  resem- 
blances to  real  people,  though  such  might  easily  be 
fancied,  were  probably  far  from  the  author's  purpose. 

For  the  rest,  the  great  charm  of  *  The  Pirate '  lies  in  the 
expression  of  the  novelist's  enthusiasm  for  the  fresh 
and  fascinating  scenery  of  a  wild  country,  where  strange 
weird  tales  are  wafted  on  every  breeze,  where  the  quaint 
customs  of  past  ages  are  still  retained,  where  Nature 
reveals  herself  in  a  constant  succession  of  new  and  ever 
captivating  forms,  where  the  rush  of  the  wind  and  the 
roar  of  the  sea  impart  fresh  joys  to  the  senses  and  fill 
one's  soul  with  renewed  veneration  for  the  Power  that 
rules  the  elements. 

As  we  sailed  away  for  Aberdeen,  it  was  with  very  much 
the  same  feeling  which  Scott  expressed  at  the  close  of 
his  diary  of  the  vacation  of  1814.^  He  said  he  had  taken 

*  The  diary,  containing  a  full  account  of  the  visit  of  1814,  in  a  light- 
house yacht,  to  the  Shetland  and  Orkney  Islands,  the  Hebrides,  and  the 
northern  coasts  of  Scotland  and  Ireland,  is  printed  in  full  in  Lockhart's 
1^6  0}  Scott. 


THE  PIRATE 

as  much  pleasure  in  the  excursion  as  in  any  six  weeks  of 
his  life.  'The  Pirate'  was  not  written  until  seven  years 
later,  but  it  carries  as  much  freshness  and  enthusiasm  as 
though  it  had  been  composed  on  the  return  voyage. 


CHAPTER   XXn 

THE  FORTUNES  OF  NIGEL 

Hitherto  our  exploration  of  the  Scott  country  had  re- 
vealed a  never-ending  succession  of  ruined  castles,  pal- 
aces, and  abbeys;  of  picturesque  rivers,  lakes,  cataracts, 
and  quiet  pools;  of  seashores  where  thunderous  waves 
dashed  against  precipitous  cliffs;  of  quaint  villages  and 
queer-looking  dwelling-houses;  of  weird  caverns  and 
strange  monuments  suggesting  the  superstitions  and 
fantasies  of  bygone  ages;  of  pleasant  meadows,  wild 
moors,  rounded  hilltops,  and  rugged  mountains;  of  a 
thousand  tangible  objects  of  interest  which  had  in  some 
way  suggested  to  Sir  Walter  the  theme  for  a  poem  or 
story.  But  when  we  reached  Scott's  London,  the  cam- 
era, which  had  faithfully  recorded  all  the  other  scenes, 
refused  to  perform  its  function.  The  tangibleness  of  the 
subjects  had  ceased.  My  lenses  have  excellent  physical 
eyes  but  no  historical  insight.  They  insist  upon  seeing 
things  as  they  are  and  will  not  record  them  as  they 
once  existed.  The  London  of  Nigel  Olifaunt  has  com- 
pletely disappeared  and  in  its  place  a  new  London  has 
arisen.  To  photograph  the  city  of  to-day  as  the  scenes 
of  Nigel's  adventures,  would  be  like  painting  the  'Pur- 
chase of  Manhattan  Island  from  the  Indians'  with  a 
background  of  fifty-story  'sky-scrapers.'  From  such  a 
task  my  faithful  camera  shrank,  and  I  was  obliged  to 
lay  it  aside,  to  turn  over,  for  several  days,  the  pages  of 

316 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  NIGEL 

some  huge  piles  of  books  on  Old  London  in  the  British 
Museum. 

Lockhart,  who  places  'The  Fortunes  of  Nigel'  in  the 
first  class  of  Scott's  romances,  says  that  his  historical 
portrait  of  King  James  I  '  stands  forth  preeminent  and 
almost  alone.'  This,  indeed,  is  the  whole  object  of  the 
book,  —  to  picture  the  London  of  King  James  and  the 
personal  peculiarities  of  that  monarch.  Scott  was 
thoroughly  saturated  —  so  to  speak  —  with  the  history 
and  literature  of  that  period,  and  especially  with  the 
dramas  of  Ben  Jonson  and  his  contemporaries;  and  this 
enabled  him  to  picture  the  manners  of  the  time  almost 
as  if  they  were  within  his  personal  recollection. 

It  is  an  amusing  portrait  of  a  pompous,  strutting,  and 
absurd  monarch  who  yet  possessed  enough  learning,  as 
well  as  ready  wit,  to  gain  the  title  of  'the  wisest  fool  in 
Christendom.'  Through  his  famous  tutor  at  Stirhng 
Castle,  George  Buchanan,  who  freely  boxed  the  royal 
ears  and  administered  spankings  the  same  as  to  other 
boys,  the  King  had  early  acquired  a  certain  taste  for 
learning.  He  evinced  a  fondness  for  the  classics  and 
yearned  to  become  a  poet.  He  wrote  in  verse  a  para- 
phrase of  the  Revelation  of  St.  John  and  a  version  of  the 
Psalms,  besides  prose  disquisitions  on  every  conceivable 
subject.  His  conversation,  as  described  by  Scott,  was 
a  curious  compound  of  Latin,  Greek,  English,  and  the 
broad  Scotch  dialect.  His  tastes,  as  well  as  character, 
were  suggested  by  the  appearance  of  a  table  in  the  pal- 
ace, which,  says  the  novelist, '  was  loaded  with  huge  fo- 
lios, amongst  which  lay  light  books  of  jest  and  ribaldry; 
and,  amongst  notes  of  unmercifully  long  orations,  and 
essays  on  kingcraft,  were  mingled  miserable  roimdels 

317 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

and  ballads  by  the  Royal  'Prentice,  as  he  styled  him- 
self, in  the  art  of  poetry,  and  schemes'for  the  general 
pacification  of  Europe,  with  a  list  of  the*names  of  the 
King's  hounds,  and  remedies  against  canine  madness.' 

A  man  of  medium  height  and  somewhat  corpulent, 
James  managed  to  make  his  figure  seem  absurdly  fat  and 
clumsy,  by  having  his  green  velvet  dress  quilted,  so  as 
to  be  dagger-proof,  for  he  was  both  timid  and  cowardly. 
The  ungainly  protuberance  thus  artificially  acquired  was 
accentuated  by  a  pair  of  weak  legs,  which  caused  him 
to  roll  about  rather  than  walk,  and  to  lean  on  other 
men's  shoulders  when  standing.  'He  was  fond  of  his 
dignity  while  he  was  perpetually  degrading  it  by  undue 
familiarity;  capable  of  much  public  labour,  yet  often 
neglecting  it  for  the  meanest  amusement;  a  wit,  though 
a  pedant;  and  a  scholar,  though  fond  of  the  conversation 
of  the  ignorant  and  uneducated.' 

Contrasting  strongly  with  this  weak  and  ludicrous 
character,  Scott  introduced  the  sterling  qualities  of  a 
noble  Scotchman,  George  Heriot,  to  whom  Edinburgh 
is  indebted  for  one  of  her  most  splendid  benevolent 
institutions,  Heriot's  Hospital,  where  for  nearly  three 
centuries  the  poor  fatherless  boys  of  the  city  have  been 
transformed  into  eminent  and  useful  citizens,  honoured 
and  resp>ected  in  many  parts  of  the  world.  George 
Heriot,  nicknamed  by  the  King  '  Jingling  Geordie,'  was 
the  son  of  an  Edinburgh  goldsmith,  to  whose  business 
he  succeeded.  At  thirty-six  years  of  age  he  had  the  good 
fortune  to  be  appointed  goldsmith  to  Queen  Anne,  and 
shortly  after,  goldsmith  and  jeweller  to  her  husband, 
then  James  VI  of  Scotland.  On  his  accession  to  the  Eng- 
lish throne  as  James  I,  in  1603,  Heriot  followed  the  King 

318 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  NIGEL 

to  London.  In  those  times,  and  until  the  eighteenth 
century,  goldsmiths  commonly  acted  as  bankers.  Heriot 
made  full  use  of  his  imusual  opportunity  and  laid  the 
foundation  of  a  large  fortune.  Disheartened  by  the  loss 
of  his  young  and  beautiful  wife,  who  died  at  the  age  of 
twenty-one,  Heriot  made  a  will  leaving  his  entire  prop- 
erty, amounting  to  £23,625,  for  the  establishment  of  the 
hospital.  His  pictiure  is  thus  described  in  a"quotation 
copied  by  Scott  in  one  of  his  notes:  'His  fair  hair,  which 
overshades  the  thoughtful  brow  and  calm,  calculating 
eye,  with  the  cast  of  humour  on  the  lower  part  of  the 
countenance,  are  all  indicative  of  the  genuine  Scottish 
character,  and  well  distinguish  a  person  fitted  to  move 
steadily  and  wisely  through  the  world,  with  a  strength 
of  resolution  to  ensure  success  and  a  disposition  to 
enjoy  it.' 

The  weakness  of  James  is  still  further  accentuated  in 
the  novel  by  the  introduction  of  his  imperious  favourite, 
George  VUUers,  the  first  Duke  of  Buckingham,  whom  the 
King  called  'Steenie,'  from  his  fancied  resemblance  to 
the  portrait  of  the  martyr,  Stephen,  as  painted  by  the 
Italian  artists.  *  James  endured  his  domination  rather 
from  habit,  timidity,  and  a  dread  of  encoimtering  his 
stormy  passions,  than  from  any  heartfelt  continuation 
of  regard  towards  him.'  The  King's  favour,  nevertheless, 
made  Buckingham  the  richest  nobleman  in  England 
(with  possibly  a  single  exception)  and  the  virtual  ruler 
of  the  kingdom.  The  constant  companion  of  the  Duke 
was  Baby  Charles,  as  James  insisted  upon  calling  his 
son,  afterward  King  Charles  I,  for  whose  ruin  and  death 
on  the  scaffold  James  was  himself,  all  unconsciously, 
rapidly  paving  the  way.  David  Ramsay,  the  whimsical 

319 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

and  absent-minded  watchmaker,  who  kept  shop  in 
Fleet  Street,  near  Temple  Bar,  was  a  real  character, 
who  held  the  post  of  'watchmaker  and  horologer'  to 
James  I.  His  most  famous  performance  was  a  search  for 
hidden  treasure  in  the  cloister  of  Westminster  Abbey, 
by  the  use  of  Mosaic  rods,  or  divining  rods,  which,  ac- 
cording to  the  current  account,  failed  solely  because  of 
the  presence  of  too  many  people.  The  irreverent  laugh- 
ter of  these  persons  caused  a  fierce  wind  to  spring  up  so 
suddenly  that '  the  demons  had  to  be  dismissed '  for  fear 
the  church  would  fall  in  on  them. 
■■  These  are  the  real  characters  of  the  story.  To  identify 
the  scenes  a  good  map  of  Old  London,  will  accomplish 
more  than  a  personal  visit.  Such  a  map  need  only  follow 
the  windings  of  the  Thames,  which  for  centuries  was  the 
great  silent  highway  of  London,  —  a  distinction  which 
it  did  not  lose  until  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury. Over  the  highway  passed  the  royal  barge  of  Eliza- 
beth, as  described  in  'Kenilworth,'  and  it  was  by  this 
same  method  of  travelling  that  George  Heriot  conducted 
his  yoimg  friend,  Nigel,  to  the  presence  of  the  King  at 
Whitehall.  For  the  streets  of  the  city  were  narrow  and 
crowded,  and  rioting,  as  the  result  of  debauchery  and 
licentiousness,  was  not  infrequent,  so  that  few  cared  to 
ride  on  horseback,  and  carriages,  except  for  the  high 
nobility,  were  entirely  unknown.  So  the  Thames  was 
the  one  great  artery  through  which  flowed  both  the  busi- 
ness and  social  life  of  the  city. 

When  King  George  and  Queen  Mary,  at  the  recent 
coronation,  passing  through  the  Admiralty  Arch  in 
Trafalgar  Square,  turned  into  Whitehall  on  their  way 
to  Westminster  Abbey,  their  route  lay  between  great 

330 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  NIGEL 

rows  of  government  buildings,  lined  with  thousands  of 
cheering  subjects.  Had  conditions  remained  as  they  were 
in  King  James's  time,  this  part  of  the  trimnphal  proces- 
sion would  have  been  entirely  within  the  limits  of  their 
own  royal  palace. 

Whitehall  Palace,  originally  built  in  1 240,  was  for  three 
centuries  called  York  House,  or  York  Place,  taking  its 
name  from  the  fact  that  it  was  the  London  residence  of 
the  Archbishop  of  York.  Under  Cardinal  Wolsey  it 
was  rebuilt  and  refurnished  in  a  style  of  magnificence 
excelling  anything  ever  before  known  in  England  and 
equal  in  splendour  to  the  best  in  the  palaces  of  the  kings. 
With  the  fall  of  Wolsey  in  1529  the  mansion  became  the 
property  of  King  Henry  VIII,  who  changed  the  name 
to  Whitehall,  and  proceeded  to  enlarge  and  improve 
both  the  palace  and  the  grounds.  A  plan  published  in 
1680  shows  that  the  buildings,  with  their  courtyards  and 
areas,  then  covered  twenty-three  acres.  It  included 
a  cock-pit  and  a  tennis-court,  on  the  site  of  the  present 
Treasury  buildings,  and  the  Horse-Guards  Parade  was 
then  a  tilt-yard.  These  arrangements  sufficiently  suggest 
some  of  the  favourite  amusements  of  royalty.  Henry 
VIII  took  great  dehght  in  cock-fighting  and  James  I 
amused  himself  with  it  regularly  twice  a  week.  Queen 
Elizabeth  foimd  pleasure  in  tournaments  and  pageants, 
and  it  is  recorded  that  in  the  sixty-seventh  year  of  her 
age  she  'commanded  the  bear,  the  bull,  and  the  ape  to 
be  bayted  in  the  Tilt-yard.'  ^ 

King  James  I  foimd  the  palace  in  bad  repair  and  deter- 
mined to  rebuild  it  on  a  vast  and  magnificent  scale. 

*  Quoted  from  Sydney's  '  State  Papers,'  in  The  Old  Royal  Palace  of 
Whitehall,  by  Edgar  Sheppard,  D.D. 

321 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

Inigo  Jones,  one  of  the  most  famous  architects  of  his 
time,  was  employed  and  made  plans  for  a  building, 
which,  if  completed,  would  have  covered  an  area  of 
twenty-four  acres.  Judging  from  drawings  now  in  the 
British  Museum,  it  seems  a  pity  that  this  admirable 
project  was  never  fully  executed.  Only  the  banquet- 
ing-haU  was  finished,  and  this  still  remains  as  the  sole 
survivor  of  the  Palace  of  Whitehall.  Its  chief  histori- 
cal interest  lies  in  the  fact  that,  from  one  of  its  windows, 
Charles  I  stepped  out  upon  the  scafiFold  where  he  was 
beheaded. 

If  we  were  to  follow  ancient  custom  and  use  the 
Thames  for  our  highway,  as  did  two  himdred  peers  and 
peeresses  at  the  late  coronation,  we  should  now  row 
down  the  river  and  land  at  Charing  Cross  Pier,  where 
we  should  find  the  remnant  of  the  simiptuous  palace 
built  by  '  Steenie,'  the  Duke  of  Buckingham.  This  is  the 
York  Water  Gate,  formerly  the  entrance  to  the  Duke's 
mansion  from  the  Thames,  but  now  high  above  the 
water,  overlooking  the  garden  of  the  Victoria  Embank- 
ment. 

Continuing  down  the  river,  we  should  stop  at  Temple 
Pier,  and  visit  the  Temple  Gardens,  where  Nigel  walked 
in  despair,  after  his  encoimter  with  Lord  Dalgamo  in 
St.  James's  Park,  and  where,  it  will  be  remembered,  he 
fell  in  with  the  friendly  Templar,  Reginald  Lowestoffe. 
The  Temple  property  was  granted  in  1609  by  James  I 
to  the  benchers  of  the  Inner  and  Middle  Temple  for  the 
education  of  students  and  professors  of  the  law.  Oliver 
Goldsmith  lived  in  Middle  Temple  Lane,  and  in  the  same 
house.  Sir  William  Blackstone,  the  great  English  jurist, 
and  William  Makepeace  Thackeray,  also  had  chambers. 

3^ 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  NIGEL 

Dr.  Johnson  lived  in  Inner  Temple  Lane,  as  did  Charles 
Lamb,  who  was  born  within  the  Temple. 

Coming  out  into  Fleet  Street,  we  should  stand 
before  the  figure  of  a  griffin  on  a  high  pedestal,  which 
marks  the  site  of  Temple  Bar.  In  Scott's  time  it  was  an 
arch  crossing  the  street,  and  in  the  time  of  King  James, 
merely  a  barricade  of  posts  and  chains.  When  the  coro- 
nation procession  passed  this  point,  King  George  V,  ac- 
cording to  ancient  custom,  paused  to  receive  permission 
from  the  Lord  Mayor  to  enter  the  City  of  London.  The 
civic  sword  was  presented  to  the  King  and  immediately 
returned  to  the  Lord  Mayor,  after  which  the  procession 
resumed  its  march. 

Within  Temple  Bar  and  on  the  north  side  of  Fleet 
Street,  between  Fetter  Lane  and  Chancery  Lane,  is  St, 
Dunstan's  Church,  built  in  1832  on  the  site  of  an  older 
church  building.  A  few  yards  to  the  eastward,  according 
to  Scott,  was  the  shop  of  David  Ramsay,  the  watch- 
maker, before  which  the  two  'stout-bodied  and  strong- 
voiced  '  apprentices  kept  up  the  shouts  of  *  What  d'  ye 
lack?  what  d'  ye  lack? '  —  very  much  after  the  fashion 
of  a  modern  'barker.'  This  was  the  opening  scene  of  the 
novel,  though  not  suggested  in  the  slightest  by  the  Fleet 
Street  of  to-day. 

On  the  opposite  side  a  narrow  lane,  called  Bouverie 
Street,  leads  down  toward  the  river  along  the  eastern 
boundary  of  The  Temple,  into  '  Whitefriars,'  or  Alsatia, 
where  Nigel  was  compelled  to  take  refuge  for  a  time  in 
the  house  of  the  old  miser,  Trapbois.  The  'Friars  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin  of  Mount  Carmel,'  otherwise  known  as 
the  'White  Friars,'  established  their  London  house  in 
1241,  between  Fleet  Street  and  the  Thames,  on  land 

323 


THE   COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

granted  by  Edward  I.  This  carried  with  it  the  privileges 
of  sanctuary  or  immunity  from  arrest,  which  were  al- 
lowed to  the  inhabitants  long  after  the  dissolution  of  the 
religious  houses.  Indeed,  before  the  suppression  of  the 
monastery,  the  persons  of  bad  repute,  who  had  flocked 
to  the  district  in  great  numbers,  were  wont  to  make  so 
much  disturbance  with  their  continual  clamours  and 
outcries,  that  the  friars  complained  that  they  could  not 
conduct  divine  service.  The  privilege  was  confirmed 
by  James  I,  and  in  his  time,  as  a  consequence,  *  Alsatia,' 
as  the  district  came  to  be  called,  was  one  of  the  worst 
quarters  in  London.  It  was  the  common  habitation  of 
thieves,  gamblers,  swindlers,  murderers,  bullies,  and 
drunken,  dissipated  reprobates  of  both  sexes.  Its  at- 
mosphere, thick  with  the  fogs  of  the  river,  fairly  reeked 
with  the  smell  of  alehouses  of  the  lowest  order,  which 
outnumbered  all  the  other  houses.  The  shouts  of  rioters, 
the  profane  songs  and  boisterous  laughter  of  the  revel- 
lers, mingled  with  the  wailing  of  children  and  the  scream- 
ing of  women.  The  men  were  *  shaggy,  uncombed  ruf- 
fians whose  enormous  mustaches  were  turned  back  over 
their  ears,'  and  they  swaggered  through  the  dirty  streets, 
quarrelling,  brawling,  fighting,  swearing,  and  'smoking 
like  moving  volcanoes.'  They  waged  a  ceaseless  warfare 
against  their  proud  and  noisy,  but  not  so  disreputable, 
neighbours  of  The  Temple. 

Coming  back  to  our  imaginary  trip  by  river  (for 
we  really  visited  these  sites  either  on  foot  or  by  taxi- 
cab),  we  continue  down  the  river,  passing  under  Black- 
friars  Bridge,  and  stop  for  a  moment  at  Paul's  Wharf, 
near  where  Nigel  found  quarters  in  the  house  of  John 
Christie,  the  honest    ship-chandler.     Journeying  on- 

324 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  NIGEL 

ward,  we  pass  under  London  Bridge,  which  in  James's 
time  was  the  only  means  of  crossing  the  river,  other  than 
by  boat.  It  was  then  overloaded  with  a  great  weight  of 
huge  buildings,  many  stories  high,  under  which  passed 
a  narrow  roadway.  At  the  southern  entrance  was  a 
gate,  the  top  of  which  was  decorated  with  the  heads  of 
traitors.  All  the  buildings  were  finally  cleared  away  in 
1757  and  1758. 

Passing  under  London  Bridge  we  soon  come  to  the 
Tower  of  London,  which  the  unfortunate  Nigel  entered 
through  the  Traitor's  Gate.  From  the  time  of  William 
the  Conqueror,  by  whom  its  foundations  were  begun, 
until  the  reign  of  Charles  II,  the  Tower  of  London  was 
used  as  a  palace  by  the  kings  of  England.  It  has  been 
said  that  the  *  strong  monarchs  employed  the  Tower  as 
a  prison,  the  weak  ones  as  a  fortress.'  It  was  as  a  prison 
that  the  Tower  achieved  its  unenviable  fame  in  history 

as 

London's  lasting  shame; 
With  many  a  foul  and  midnight  murder  fed. 

In  its  dark  precincts  many  of  the  noblest  of  England's 
men  and  women  found  themselves  prisoners,  the  ma- 
jority of  them  perishing  upon  the  block.  Anne  Boleyn 
and  Katherine  Howard,  wives  of  Henry  VIII;  Lady  Jane 
Grey  and  her  husband  Guildford  Dudley;  the  father  ^ 
and  the  grandfather  ^  of  Dudley;  and  Sir  Walter  Raleigh 
were  among  the  most  famous  of  these  victims.  Nigel 
was  confined  in  the  Beauchamp  Tower,  where  many 
distinguished  persons  were  imprisoned.  The  inscriptions 
to  which  Scott  refers  may  still  be  seen,  including  that 

^  John  Dudley,  Duke  of  Northumberland. 

*  Edmund  Dudley,  the  notorious  agent  of  King  Henry  VII. 


THE   COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

of  Lady  Jane  Grey,  though  it  is  probable  that  this  was 
written  by  her  husband  or  by  his  brother,  who  is  sup- 
posed to  have  carved  the  device  of  the  bear  and  ragged 
staff,  'the  emblem  of  the  proud  Dudleys,'  which  is  an 
elaborate  piece  of  sculpture  on  the  right  of  the  fireplace. 

To  complete  our  survey  of  the  scenery  of  'The  For- 
tunes of  Nigel,'  we  have  to  continue  our  journey  down 
the  Thames  until  we  land  in  Greenwich  Hospital  and  the 
Royal  Naval  College,  which  occupy  the  site  of  the  old 
royal  palace,  formerly  called  Placentia  or  Pleasaunce. 
It  was  a  favourite  royal  palace  as  early  as  1300,  though 
it  passed  into  the  hands  of  the  nobility  and  came  back 
to  the  Crown  in  1433  on  the  death  of  Humphrey,  Duke 
of  Gloucester.  It  was  the  birthplace  of  King  Henry 
VIII  and  of  Mary  and  Elizabeth.  The  building  was  en- 
larged by  Henry  VIII,  James  I,  and  Charles  I.  Charles 
II  caused  it  to  be  pulled  down,  intending  to  carry  out 
some  ambitious  plan,  but  succeeded  in  erecting  only 
the  building  which  is  now  the  west  wing  of  the  hospital. 
Back  of  the  palace  is  an  extensive  park  of  one  hundred 
and  ninety  acres.  This  is  where  Nigel  imexpectedly  en- 
countered the  King,  at  the  very  climax  of  a  stag-hunt, 
frightening  him  nearly  to  death;  and  here  he  was  un- 
ceremoniously arrested  and  hurried  off  to  the  Tower. 
The  park  still  has  herds  of  deer,  though  they  are  no 
longer  hunted,  and  a  row  of  fine  old  chestnuts,  origin- 
ally planted  by  command  of  Charles  II,  who  laid  out 
the  enclosure.  In  the  centre  is  a  hill,  surmounted  by 
the  famous  Royal  Greenwich  Observatory,  from  whose 
meridian  longitude  is  reckoned  and  whose  clock  deter- 
mines the  standard  of  time  for  all  England. 

Just  as  'The  Heart  of  Midlothian'  had  produced 

326 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  NIGEL 

a  vivid  picture  of  life  in  Edinburgh  during  the  reign  of 
George  II,  so  'The  Fortunes  of  Nigel'  reproduced  the 
life  of  London  in  the  time  of  Kling  James.  For  this  bril- 
liant study,  not  only  of  the  curious  monarch,  but  of  the 
strange  manners  and  customs  as  well  as  the  lawlessness 
of  the  city,  which  the  King's  folly  did  so  much  to  create, 
the  novel  has  been  generally  accorded  a  very  high  rank 
among  Scott's  productions. 


CHAPTER  XXm 

PEVERTL    OF    THE   PEAK 

'Old  Peveril'  was  one  of  the  pet  nicknames  with 
which  Scott  was  dubbed  by  some  of  his  young  legal 
friends  in  Parliament  House,  and  he  carried  the  sobri- 
quet for  the  remainder  of  his  life,  taking  great  deUght  in 
it.  He  did  not,  however,  take  much  pleasure  from  the 
composition  of  the  novel,  finding  it  a  tiresome  task  from 
which  he  could  only  find  relief  by  planning  its  successor. 
It  marks  the  beginning  of  a  malady  which  ultimately 
proved  fatal.  Scott  concealed  the  symptoms  from  his 
family,  but  confided  to  a  friend  that  he  feared  Peveril 
'will  smell  of  the  apoplexy.'  It  proved  a  heavy  under- 
taking, covering  a  period  of  twenty  years  of  exciting 
history  and  three  distinct,  but  widely  differing,  locaUties, 
namely,  Derbyshire,  the  Isle  of  Man,  and  London  in  the 
time  of  Charles  II. 

In  the  high  Peak  coimtry  of  Derbyshire,  about  fifteen 
miles  west  of  Sheflield,  lies  the  village  of  Castleton,  nest- 
ling snugly  at  the  foot  of  a  somewhat  precipitous  hill. 
Away  back  in  the  time  of  William  the  Conqueror,  a  son 
of  that  monarch  received  a  grant  of  large  estates  in 
Derbyshire,  and  selected  the  very  summit  of  this  steep 
and  almost  inaccessible  rock  as  the  site  of  his  castle.  His 
name  was  William  Peveril  and  the  bit  of  a  ruin  which 
still  remains,  high  in  the  air  above  the  village,  is  called 
Peveril  Castle.  We  reached  it  after  a  very  hard  climb, 
by  a  steep  path  nmning  zigzag  across  the  face  of  a  long 

328 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

grassy  slope.  It  was  scarcely  worth  the  effort,  for  the 
'castle'  is  now  only  a  small  square  tower,  of  no  interest 
whatever,  except  from  the  fact  that  it  gave  the  name  to 
one  of  the  Waverley  Novels. 

The  domain  of  this  WilUam  Peveril  seems  to  have 
extended  far  to  the  south  of  Castleton,  and  included  in 
it  was  the  site  of  Haddon  Hall,  a  fine  mediaeval  mansion, 
picturesquely  situated  on  the  river  Wye,  between 
Bakewell  and  Rowsley,  and  still  in  wonderfully  good 
repair.  The  Peverils  held  the  property  for  about  a 
century,  when  they  were  deprived  of  the  lands  by  King 
Henry  II.  In  1195,  Haddon  came  into  the  possession  of 
the  Vernon  family,  who  continued  to  reside  there  for 
nearly  four  centuries.  The  last  of  the  name  was  Sir 
George  Vernon,  who  became  celebrated  as  the  '  King  of 
the  Peak.'  His  large  possessions  passed  into  the  hands 
of  his  yoimgest  daughter,  Dorothy,  whose  elopement 
and  marriage  with  John  Manners,  youngest  son  of  the 
Earl  of  Rutland,  threw  about  the  old  mansion  that 
atmosphere  of  poetry  and  romance  which  has  ever 
since  been  associated  with  it.  To  me,  the  most  pleasing 
part  of  the  old  hall  is  the  terrace  and  lawn,  back  of  the 
house.  A  flight  of  broad  stairs,  with  stone  balustrades, 
leads  to  Dorothy  Vernon's  Walk,  which  is  shaded  by 
the  thick  foliage  of  oaks,  limes,  sycamores,  and  other 
forest  trees,  for  which  the  park  was  once  famous. 
Grassy  moimds  mark  the  boundaries  of  the  lawn,  and 
the  castle  walls,  with  their  wide  windows  and  luxurious 
mantle  of  deep  green  ivy,  add  a  delightful  charm  to  the 
picture.  This  is  further  enhanced  by  the  romantic  asso- 
ciations of  the  place.  Traditions  say  that  John  Manners, 
who,  for  some  reason,  was  forbidden  the  opportunity  to 

329 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

visit  the  fair  Dorothy  openly,  hovered  about  these  ter- 
races disguised  as  a  forester,  seeking  brief  interviews  in 
secret.  On  the  night  of  a  ball  in  celebration  of  her  sis- 
ter's wedding,  Dorothy  slipped  into  the  garden,  and 
passing  through  the  terrace  made  her  way  across  the 
Wye  over  a  quaint  little  bridge,  built  just  large  enough 
for  a  single  pack-horse,  and  now  known  as  the  'Pack- 
Horse  Bridge.'  On  the  other  side,  John  waited  with 
horses,  and  the  two  rode  away  to  be  married.  Whatever 
may  have  been  the  objection  to  the  marriage,  events 
soon  adjusted  the  affair  and  Dorothy  Vernon  became 
the  sole  owner  of  the  mansion.  It  has  remained  ever  since 
in  the  possession  of  the  Manners  family,  the  Earls  and 
Dukes  of  Rutland. 

In  his  description  of  Martindale  Castle,  the  seat  of 
Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril,  Scott  doubtless  had  in  mind,  to  some 
extent  at  least,  this  more  pretentious  mansion  on  the 
original  property  of  the  Peverils,  rather  than  the  unin- 
teresting tower  at  Castleton.  He  refers  to  Haddon  Hall 
in  one  of  his  notes  as  having  suggested  a  certain  arrange- 
ment of  rooms,  and  in  his  accoimt  of  Lady  Peveril's  din- 
ner to  the  Cavaliers  and  Roundheads,  in  honour  of  the 
restoration  of  King  Charles  II,  he  makes  use  of  two  large 
dining-rooms,  which  Haddon  Hall  could  readily  supply, 
but  which  might  be  difficult  to  find  in  any  ordinary 
mansion  of  the  period. 

Lady  Peveril,  it  will  be  remembered,  in  spite  of  the 
*good  fellowship'  and  'reconciliation'  which  the  banquet 
was  to  celebrate,  dared  not  permit  the  rival  factions  to 
dine  together,  so  she  adopted  the  imique  expedient  of 
placing  the  jovial  Cavaliers  in  the  hall,  while  the  strict 
Puritans  occupied  the  large  parlour.  The  great  hall  of 

330 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

Haddon  is  about  thirty-five  feet  long  and  twenty-five 
feet  wide.  At  one  end  is  an  ancient  table,  many  centuries 
old,  and  at  the  other  is  a  minstrel's  gallery,  with  carved 
panellings  and  ornamented  by  stag's  heads.  A  great 
open  fireplace  gives  a  suggestion  of  good  cheer,  even  to 
the  bare  room.  Back  of  this  is  another  large  dining- 
room  on  the  oaken  walls  of  which  are  some  fine  old 
carvings.  It  also  has  a  large  open  fireplace,  above  which 
is  the  motto 

Drede  God  and  Honor  the  Kyng. 

The  room  was  formerly  larger  than  now  and  may  have 
been  in  the  author's  mind  as  the  scene  of  the  Puritan 
part  of  the  banquet.  Haddon  Hall,  however,  although 
it  doubtless  furnished  some  few  suggestions,  must  not 
be  taken  as  an  'original'  of  Martindale  Castle.  The 
novehst  never  felt  the  necessity  of  an  exact  model,  but 
freely  used  the  places  with  which  he  was  familiar  for 
such  suggestions  as  they  might  chance  to  furnish.  In 
his  later  work  he  often  described  localities  which  he  had 
never  visited,  frequently  doing  so  with  an  exactness 
suggesting  the  most  intimate  personal  knowledge. 

This  was  true  of  the  Isle  of  Man,  which  Scott  had 
never  seen,  but  which  he  describes  in  'Peveril  of  the 
Peak'  with  great  accuracy,  reljdng  for  his  information 
upon  Waldron's  'Description  of  the  Isle  of  Man,'  pub- 
lished in  1 73 1. 

After  an  interval  of  several  years  following  the  events 
in  Derbyshire,  Julian  Peveril  appears  as  a  visitor  at 
Castle  Rushen,  in  the  southern  end  of  the  Isle  of  Man. 
Tradition  says  that  this  ancient  castle  was  founded  in 
the  tenth  century  by  Guttred,  the  son  of  a  Norwegian 

331 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

chief  named  Orry,  who  took  possession  and  with  his 
sons  and  successors  reigned  for  many  years  as  kings  of 
the  Isle  of  Man.  Later  the  Earls  of  Derby  ruled  as 
monarchs  of  the  island  and  Castle  Rushen  was  their 
royal  residence. 

The  traditional  castle  of  the  Norwegians  was  replaced 
in  the  thirteenth  century  by  a  strong  fortress  of  lime- 
stone. This  was  partly  destroyed  by  Robert  Bruce  in 
13 13  and  remained  in  ruins  for  three  centuries.  It  was 
then  rebuilt  by  the  Earls  of  Derby  in  its  present  form. 
The  central  keep  is  a  strong  tower  with  walls  twenty- 
two  feet  thick  at  the  base  and  about  seventy  feet  high. 
It  is  surroimded  by  an  embattled  wall  twenty-five  feet 
high  and  nine  feet  thick.  On  the  tower  facing  the  market 
square  is  a  clock  presented  in  1597  by  Queen  Elizabeth. 

In  1627,  James  Stanley,  celebrated  as  'the  great  Earl 
of  Derby,'  became  lord  of  the  island.  This  nobleman 
was  executed  in  165 1,  charged  with  the  crime  of  assisting 
Charles  II  before  the  battle  of  Worcester.  During  his 
absence  in  England  the  Castle  Rushen  was  heroically 
defended  by  his  wife,  the  brave  Charlotte  de  la  Tre- 
mouille,  Countess  of  Derby.  William  Christian,  popu- 
larly known  as  William  Dhone,  or  'the  fair-haired 
William,'  had  been  entrusted  by  the  Earl  with  the  care 
of  his  wife  and  children.  Whatever  may  have  been  his 
motive,  the  Receiver-General,  by  which  title  Christian 
was  known,  surrendered  the  island  without  resistance, 
on  the  appearance  of  the  Parliamentary  army,  and  the 
Countess  was  imprisoned  in  the  castle.  After  the  Res- 
toration of  Charles  II,  the  Countess  accused  Christian 
of  treachery  to  herself  and  brought  about  his  execution 
in  1662. 

332 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

These  were  the  main  facts  which,  coming  to  the  novel- 
ist's attention  through  his  brother,  Thomas  Scott,  who 
for  several  seasons  resided  in  the  Isle  of  Man,  attracted 
his  fancy  and  suggested  the  writing  of  'Peveril  of  the 
Peak.' 

Peel  Castle,  to  which  the  action  of  the  story  is  soon 
transferred,  stands  on  a  rocky  islet  off  the  western  coast 
of  the  island.  It  was  once  a  vast  ecclesiastical  estabHsh- 
ment  and  now  contains  the  ruins  of  two  churches,  two 
chapels,  two  prisons,  and  two  palaces.  Of  these  the  best 
preserved  and  most  interesting  is  the  Cathedral  of  St. 
Germain,  a  cruciform  building,  some  parts  of  which 
were  built  in  the  thirteenth  century.  In  a  crypt  below 
was  the  ecclesiastical  prison  where  many  remarkable 
captives  were  confined,  the  most  notable  of  whom  was 
Eleanor  Cobham,  wife  of  Humphrey,  Duke  of  Glouces- 
ter, who  was  accused  of  witchcraft  and  of  devising  a 
wicked  plot  to  kill  the  King  and  place  her  husband  upon 
the  throne. 

Higher  up  on  the  rock  are  the  remains  of  St.  Patrick's 
Church,  in  the  walls  of  which  are  some  good  examples  of 
the  'herring-bone'  masonry  indicating  great  antiquity. 
The  walls  are  thought  by  antiquarians  to  date  back  to 
the  fifth  century.  Behind  this  is  the  remarkable  round 
tower,  about  fifty  feet  high,  which  Mr.  Hall  Caine  has 
introduced  in  'The  Christian.' 

The  custodian,  when  he  learned  of  our  interest  in  Sir 
Walter  Scott,  could  scarcely  restrain  his  anxiety  to 
show  us  Fenella's  Tower.  This  is  a  bit  of  the  surround- 
ing wall,  containing  a  small  square  turret.  Beneath  is  a 
narrow  stairway,  forming  a  sally-port,  through  which 
entrance  could  be  gained  to  a  space  between  two  par- 

333 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

allel  outside  walls.  In  time  of  siege,  soldiers  could  go 
out  and  fire  at  the  enemy  from  this  place  of  concealment 
through  openings  in  the  walls.  If  hard-pressed  they 
could  retire  to  the  tower  and  pour  scalding  water  or  hot 
lead  upon  an  attacking  body.  In  Scott's  tale,  Julian 
Peveril,  seeking  to  leave  the  castle  by  this  stair,  is  inter- 
cepted by  Fenella,  who  is  anxious  to  prevent  his  depar- 
ture. Finally  eluding  her  grasp,  he  hastens  down  the 
stair  only  to  be  confronted  again  by  the  deaf-and-dumb 
maiden,  who  has  accomplished  her  purpose  by  leaping 
over  the  parapet.  We  gazed  down  from  the  walls  upon  a 
ledge  of  rocks  at  least  fifteen  feet  below  and  concluded 
that,  for  a  httle  girl,  this  was  a  pretty  big  leap ! 

The  keep  and  guard-house  near  the  entrance  Was  the 
scene  of  the  Manx  legend  of  the  Moddey  Dhoo,  a  large 
black  spaniel  with  shaggy  hair,  which  haunted  Peel 
Castle.  This  dog  is  referred  to  in  *  The  Lay  of  the  Last 
Minstrel': 

For  he  was  speechless,  ghastly,  wan, 
Like  him  of  whom  the  story  ran 
Who  spoke  the  spectre-hoimd  in  Man. 

The  Moddey  Dhoo  was  the  terror  of  all  the  soldiers  on 
the  island,  who  believed  he  was  an  evil  spirit,  only 
awaiting  an  opportunity  to  do  them  harm.  At  length,  a 
drunken  soldier  declared  he  would  find  out  whether  the 
animal  were  dog  or  devil.  He  departed  bravely,  with 
much  noise  and  boasting,  but  none  dared  follow.  When 
he  returned  the  fellow  was  sober  and  silent.  He  never 
spoke  again,  but  three  days  later  died  in  agony. 

The  remaining  scenery  of  'Peveril  of  the  Peak'  is 
London  in  the  time  of  Charles  II.  The  'dark  and  shad- 
owy'  city  had  now  attracted  nearly  all  the  personages  of 

334 


THE   SAXON   TOWER,    ISLE   OF   MAN 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

the  story.  In  St.  James's  Park,  adjoining  the  Palace  of 
Whitehall,  Fenella  danced  with  wondrous  grace  and 
agiUty  before  the  King.  As  in  'The  Fortunes  of  Nigel,' 
the  Thames  is  the  great  highway  of  traffic,  and  Julian 
Peveril  is  carried  by  coach  to  the  river  from  old  Newgate 
Prison,  and  thence  by  boat  to  the  Tower,  which,  hke 
Nigel,  he  enters  through  the  Traitor's  Gate. 

The  Savoy,  a  dilapidated  old  pile,  where  Julian  unex- 
pectedly meets  Fenella,  was  once  a  great  palace.  It  was 
built  by  Simon  de  Montfort,  the  great  Earl  of  Leicester, 
in  1245.  In  the  following  century  it  was  almost  demol- 
ished by  a  mob,  but  in  1509  King  Henry  VII  restored 
and  rebuilt  the  palace  and  converted  it  into  a  hospital. 
Half  a  century  later,  Queen  Mary  refounded  and  reen- 
dowed  the  institution.  In  the  time  of  the  story  the  build- 
ing was  probably  not  so  antiquated  and  ruinous  as  Scott 
describes  it.  Charles  II,  after  the  Restoration,  used  it 
as  the  meeting-place  of  the  Savoy  conference  for  the 
revision  of  the  Liturgy.  In  Scott's  time  it  was  ruinous 
enough  and  since  then  has  entirely  disappeared.  West- 
minster Hall,  where  the  trial  of  the  Peverils  was  held,  is 
now  the  vestibule  of  the  Houses  of  Parliament.  It  was 
originally  built  by  William  Rufus,  son  of  the  Conqueror, 
in  1097,  but  afterward  destroyed  by  fire  and  rebuilt.  In 
it  some  of  the  earliest  English  Parliaments  were  held 
and  it  has  been  the  scene  of  many  coronation  festivals. 
*  The  novel  gives  a  graphic  picture  of  the  gay,  dissipated, 
and  scandalous  court  of  Charles  II,  and  an  excellent 
portrait  of  that  selfish,  indolent,  and  sensual,  but  witty 
and  good-natured  monarch.  His  chief  favourite,  George 
Villiers,  the  second  Duke  of  Buckingham,  is  painted  in 
no  more  flattering  colours.  He  was  a  statesman  of  fickle 

335 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

character  who  could  not  long  be  trusted  by  any  one. 
He  was  a  writer  of  verses,  farces,  and  comedies,  a 
musician,  and  a  man  of  great  talent  and  accomplish- 
ments; but  he  was  a  profligate,  absolutely  insincere 
and  without  principle. 

'Peveril  of  the  Peak'  cannot  be  considered  one  of 
Scott's  best  novels.  It  has  never  been  popular.  Scott 
himself  tired  of  it,  and  even  Lockhart  can  find  little  to 
say  in  its  praise. 

Lady  Louisa  Stuart,  who  was  one  of  Scott's  most 
valued  friends,  summarized  it  all,  at  the  end  of  a  good- 
natured  criticism,  with  the  remark:  'However,  in  all  this 
I  recognize  the  old  habit  of  a  friend  of  mine,  growing 
tired  before  any  of  his  readers,  huddling  up  a  conclusion 
anyhow,  and  so  kicking  the  book  out  of  his  way;  which 
is  a  provoking  trick,  though  one  must  bear  it  rather 
than  not  have  his  book,  with  all  its  faults  on  its  head. 
The  best  amends  he  can  make  is  to  give  us  another  as 
soon  as  may  be.' 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

QUENTIN  DURWARD 

The  true  'Scott  Country'  is  limited  strictly  to  Scotland, 
England,  and  Wales.  So  long  as  he  remained  upon  the 
soil  of  his  own  native  kingdom,  Sir  Walter  wrote  of  what 
he  had  seen  and  for  the  most  part  traversed  only  familiar 
ground.  In  Scotland,  he  was  equally  at  home  in  the 
Lowlands  or  Highlands.  He  visited  England  often 
enough  to  know  well  the  inspiring  mountains  of  Cum- 
berland and  Westmoreland,  the  hiUs  and  valleys  of 
Northimiberland,  the  broad  expanse  of  Yorkshire,  with 
its  delightful  scenery  and  many  historical  associations, 
the  moorlands  of  Derby,  the  charming  roads  and  pleas- 
ant villages  of  Nottingham,  Leicester,  Warwick,  and 
Oxford,  and  the  highways  and  by-ways  of  the  ever- 
fascinating  London.  With  the  history,  the  legends  and 
the  poetry  of  his  own  country  he  was  as  familiar  as  a 
child  would  be  with  the  environment  of  his  own  home. 
They  were  a  part  of  the  mental  equipment  that  had 
been  developing  steadily  from  the  time  he  was  three 
years  old. 

When  he  stepped  out  of  this  familiar  region,  for  the 
first  time,  there  came  a  remarkable  change,  and  in  Janu- 
ary, 1823,  when  he  began  the  composition  of  'Quentin 
Durward,'  we  find  him  floimdering  about  in  a  sea  of 
gazetteers,  atlases,  histories,  and  geographies.  On  the 
23d  of  that  month  he  wrote  to  Constable:  —  *  It  is  a  vile 
place,  this  village  of  Plessis  les  Tours,  that  can  baffle 

337 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

both  you  and  me.  It  is  a  place  famous  in  history  .  .  .  yet 
I  have  not  foxmd  it  in  any  map,  provincial  or  general, 
which  I  have  consulted.  .  .  .  Instead  of  description 
holding  the  place  of  sense,  I  must  try  to  make  such  sense 
as  I  can  find,  hold  the  place  of  description.' 

Fortimately  he  had  the  assistance  of  his  friend  Skene, 
who  about  this  time  returned  from  a  tour  in  France,  and 
placed  at  the  disposal  of  the  author  a  great  variety  of 
sketches  of  landscapes  and  ancient  buildings,  besides  a 
journal  full  of  accurate  notes;  for  the  novelist's  artist- 
friend  knew  from  long  companionship  exactly  what 
would  be  most  appreciated. 

Though  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land,  Scott  was  not 
entirely  alone,  for  he  took  with  him  into  the  unknown 
country  three  good  Scotchmen,  namely,  Quentin  Dur- 
ward,  whom  he  made  an  archer  in  the  Scots  Guard  of 
King  Louis  XI;  the  picturesque  and  interesting  Le 
Balafre,  Quentin's  uncle,  already  a  guardsman;  and 
Lord  Crawford,  the  aged  commander  of  the  guard,  a 
Scotch  nobleman,  whose  great  ability  and  experience 
had  won  the  esteem  and  confidence  even  of  the  suspi- 
cious King.  This  was  surely  a  stroke  of  genius.  The  old 
Scotch  friends  of  the  novelist  could  not  help  following 
with  interest  the  thrilling  adventures  of  their  coimtry- 
men  in  a  foreign  land,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  tale 
raised  up  a  host  of  new  admirers  in  France  and  through- 
out the  Continent.  The  Frenchmen  saw  with  amaze- 
ment King  Louis  XI  and  Charles  the  Bold  suddenly 
come  to  life  and,  imder  the  skilful  direction  of  the  Scot- 
tish Wizard,  walk  about  again  amidst  some  of  the  most 
stirring  scenes  of  European  history.  Not  in  all  their 
literature  had  the  French  people  seen  such  striking  por- 

338 


QUENTIN  DURWARD 

traiture  of  these  famous  men  nor  such  vivid  pictures  of 
the  ancient  manners  of  their  own  people. 

A  line,  nearly  straight,  drawn  diagonally  across  the 
map  of  France  and  Belgium,  representing  a  distance  of 
perhaps  three  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  will  fairly  suggest 
the  geography  of  'Quentin  Durward.'  Its  southwestern 
extremity  would  be  Tours,  about  one  himdred  and  forty- 
five  miles  from  Paris.  It  would  pass  through  Peronne, 
in  the  north  of  France  directly  east  of  Amiens;  then 
dropping  sUghtly  to  the  south,  and  across  the  border  of 
Belgium  would  reach  its  northeastern  termination  in  the 
city  of  Liege. 

The  town  of  Tours  was  much  favoured  in  the  fifteenth 
century  by  the  frequent  visits  of  Charles  VII,  Louis  XI, 
and  Charles  VIII,  in  consequence  of  which  it  then 
reached  its  highest  state  of  prosperity.  It  was  long 
famed  for  its  silk  industry,  founded  by  Louis  XL  Two 
miles  west  of  the  town,  on  a  low  marshy  plain  between 
the  rivers  Loire  and  Cher,  and  close  by  a  hamlet  of  a 
few  scattered  cottages,  is  the  famous  Castle  of  Plessis  les 
Tours,  where  the  action  of  the  story  begins.  Only  a  frag- 
ment of  the  original  structure  now  remains,  as  part  of  a 
modern  chateau. 

The  old  castle  looked  more  like  a  prison  than  a  king's 
palace,  and  seemed  well  adapted  to  be  the  den  of  the 
'universal  spider,'  as  Louis  came  to  be  called,  from 
which  he  could  weave  his  dangerous  web  in  every  direc- 
tion and  ensnare  the  feet  of  those  whom  he  selected  for 
his  prey.  It  was  in  this  dismal  place  that  Louis  XI  shut 
himself  in  the  last  days  of  his  life,  weak  from  illness  and 
pain  and  almost  insane  from  distrust.  Here  he  died,  in 
1483,  to  the  great  joy  of  the  kingdom. 

339 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

Every  year  he  had  added  new  walls  and  ditches  to  his 
fortress.  The  towers  were  covered  with  iron  as  a  protec- 
tion against  arrows.  Eighteen  hundred  heavy  planks 
bristling  with  nails  were  placed  outside  the  ditches  to 
impede  the  approach  of  cavalry.  Four  hundred  cross- 
bowmen  manned  the  towers  and  the  villainous  Tristan 
I'Hermite  had  full  authority  to  seize  and  hang  any 
innocent  stranger  whom  he  might  choose  to  suspect. 

As  I  write,  I  have  before  me  two  pictures:  —  one  a 
contemporary  print  of  the  ancient  castle,  the  other  a 
portrait  of  the  King.  The  former,  a  group  of  low,  irregu- 
lar buildings,  with  slanting  roofs  and  small  barred  win- 
dows, having  a  chapel  attached  to  one  end,  contains 
nothing  whatever  to  suggest  a  royal  palace.  The  latter 
shows  the  face  of  a  sly,  cunning,  imscrupulous  plotter, 
full  of  cruelty,  baseness,  vulgarity,  and  hypocrisy,  yet 
terribly  in  earnest  and  revealing  the  features  that  mark 
an  irresistible  will.  I  can  almost  fancy  a  resemblance 
between  the  two  pictures.  The  mean  impretentiousness 
of  the  castle  and  its  lack  of  symmetry  suggest  the  unpre- 
possessing appearance  of  the  King,  whose  whole  aspect 
was  vulgar,  his  clothing  purposely  plain  and  often  im- 
tidy  and  his  manners  completely  devoid  of  dignity  and 
common  courtesy.  Its  numerous  defences,  including 
turrets,  battlements,  ditches,  and  drawbridges,  suggest 
the  constant  fear  of  treachery  in  which  the  King  lived, 
never  daring  to  regard  his  most  intimate  companions 
with  aught  but  jealous  suspicion.  The  real  strength  of 
the  fortress,  in  spite  of  its  ugliness  and  apparent  insig- 
nificance are  typical  of  the  tremendous  power  of  this 
monarch,  who  pursued  his  purposes  without  regard  to 
truth,  decency,  honour,  or  human  rights,  reducing  the 

340 


QUENTIN  DURWARD 

people  to  a  state  of  abject  poverty  and  misery,  yet 
enlarging  the  borders  of  France  to  nearly  their  present 
extent,  reorganizing  the  army,  centralizing  the  govern- 
ment, and  laying  the  foxmdations  of  the  nation  in  its 
modem  form. 

One  might  almost  indulge  the  whimsical  notion  that 
the  little  chapel  to  which  I  have  referred,  pointing 
heavenward  with  an  attenuated  spire  of  absurdly  slen- 
der proportions,  symbolizes  the  King's  own  feeble 
efforts  to  point  in  the  same  direction.  His  piety  was 
manifested  by  a  dozen  'paltry  figures  of  saints  stamped 
in  lead'  which  he  wore  on  the  band  of  his  hat.  He 
endeavoured  to  atone  for  the  most  atrocious  acts  of 
selfishness  and  cruelty  by  gifts  of  money  and  outward 
penance,  continuing  his  wickedness  all  the  whUe,  but 
apologizing  for  it  in  his  prayers  to  the  saints.  But  the 
crowning  act  of  hypocritical  piety,  as  well  as  the  most 
absurd,  was  his  attempt  to  insure  his  ultimate  salvation 
by  the  unique  expedient  of  creating  the  Virgin  Mary  a 
countess  and  an  honorary  colonel  of  his  guards. 

This  was  the  strange,  but  intensely  interesting,  char- 
acter, whom  Scott,  making  free  use  of  the  '  Memoirs  of 
PhiUppe  de  Comines,'  one  of  the  King's  most  intimate 
councillors,  succeeded  in  portraying  so  vividly  that  the 
tale  of  which  he  is  the  real  hero  has  won  universal 
recognition  as  a  novel  of  genuine  historical  value. 

A  few  miles  southeast  of  Tours  is  the  ruin  of  a  castle 
still  more  terrible  in  its  suggestiveness  than  even  Plessis, 
for  here  Louis  XI  perpetrated  deeds  of  secret  cruelty, 
which  he  shrank  from  committing  within  the  walls  of  his 
own  palace.  It  is  the  Castle  of  Loches,  for  many  years 
a  royal  residence.   It  is  interesting  to  Scotchmen  from 

341 


THE   COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

the  fact  that  it  was  the  scene  of  the  royal  wedding  of 
King  James  V  to  the  Princess  Magdalene,  in  whose 
honour  the  Palace  of  LinUthgow  was  remodelled  and 
greatly  embellished. 

The  castle  is  now  a  pile  of  ruined  buildings,  standing 
on  the  summit  of  a  lofty  rock,  where  it  dominates  the 
landscape.  Its  principal  tower  is  one  hundred  and 
twenty  feet  high,  with  walls  eight  feet  thick.  Its  date  is 
said  to  be  the  twelfth  century.  A  part  of  it  is  now  the 
local  jail,  and  the  building  has  been  used  as  a  prison  for 
centuries.  Beneath  were  dungeons  imder  dungeons, 
dimly  lighted  by  narrow  windows,  cut  through  small 
recesses  in  the  walls,  which  are  here  ten  or  twelve  feet 
thick.  In  two  of  these  were  the  iron  cages  invented  by 
Cardinal  John  de  La  Balue.  He  was  a  cobbler,  some  say  a 
tailor,  whom  Louis  elevated  to  the  highest  rank  and  em- 
ployed in  his  secret  devices.  The  cageVas  built  of  iron 
bars  and  was  only  eight  feet  square.  The  Cardinal 
proved  a  traitor  to  his  king  and  the  latter's  severity  kept 
him  in  the  dungeon  cells  for  eleven  years,  a  part  of 
which  time,  at  least,  was  spent  in  one  of  the  cages  of  his 
own  invention.  The  governor  and  gaoler  of  this  dreaded 
prison  was  Oliver  le  Daim,  the  King's  barber  and 
prime  minister. 

The  events  culminating  in  the  murder  of  the  Bishop 
of  LiSge  were,  of  course,  purely  fictitious.  Scott  did  not 
hesitate  to  'violate  history,'  as  he  afterward  expressed 
it,  to  meet  the  requirements  of  his  story.  The  actual 
murder  of  the  Bishop  occurred  in  1482,  fourteen  years 
after  the  period  of  the  novel  and  five  years  after  the 
death  of  Charles  the  Bold.  William  de  la  Marck,  called 
the  'Wild  Boar  of  Ardennes,'  wishing  to  place  the  mitre 

343 


QUENTIN  DURWARD 

on  the  head  of  his  own  son,  entered  into  a  conspiracy 
with  some  of  the  rebellious  citizens  of  Li&ge,  against 
their  Bishop,  Louis  de  Bourbon.  The  latter  was  enticed 
to  the  edge  of  the  town,  where  he  was  met  by  the  fierce 
and  bloodthirsty  knight,  who  murdered  him  with  his 
own  hand  and  caused  the  body  to  be  exposed  naked  in 
St.  Lambert's  Place,  before  the  cathedral.  Scott's  ver- 
sion, never  intended  to  be  historically  accurate,  places 
the  scene  of  the  murder  in  the  fictitious  Castle  of  Schon- 
waldt,  outside  the  city. 

The  description  of  the  meeting  of  Louis  XI  and  Charles 
the  Bold  at  the  town  of  Peronne  and  the  King's  impri- 
sonment in  the  castle,  while  somewhat  amplified  with 
fictitious  details,  is  in  the  essential  facts  quite  in  accord 
with  history.  Peronne  is  a  small  town  of  great  antiquity, 
ninety-four  miles  northeast  of  Paris,  in  the  Department 
of  the  Somme.  Its  castle  still  retains  four  conical-roofed 
towers  in  fairly  good  repair.  On  the  groimd  floor  are 
many  dark  and  dismal  dungeons.  In  one  of  these  miser- 
able cells  Charles  the  Simple,  in  the  year  929,  ended  his 
days  in  agony.  He  was  confined  in  the  tower  by  the 
treachery  of  Herbert,  Coimt  of  Vermandois,  and  left 
there  to  starve  to  death.  Adjoining  this  room,  in  what 
is  known  as  the  Tour  Herbert,  is  the  chamber  said  to 
have  been  occupied  by  Louis  XL 

Great  was  the  surprise  and  alarm  among  the  retainers 
of  Louis  when  that  monarch,  trusting  to  an  exaggerated 
notion  of  his  own  wit  and  powers  of  persuasion,  pro- 
posed to  visit  his  most  formidable  adversary,  Charles  of 
Burgundy,  at  the  town  of  Peronne.  The  latter  granted 
the  King's  request  for  a  safe-conduct,  and  Louis  set 
forth  in  October,  1482,  accompanied  by  a  small  detach- 

343 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

ment  of  his  Scots  Guard  and  men-at-arms,  and  two 
faitliless  councillors,  the  Constable  de  St.  Pol  and  the 
Cardinal  de  La  Balue.  The  Duke  met  the  King  outside 
the  town  and  together  they  walked  in  apparent  friend- 
liness to  the  house  of  the  Chamberlain,  Charles  apologiz- 
ing for  not  taking  the  King  to  the  castle  because  it  was 
not  in  fit  condition.  Some  portion  of  the  Duke's  army 
arrived  the  same  day  and  encamped  outside  the  walls. 
Learning  this,  the  King  became  greatly  frightened  and 
demanded  quarters  in  the  castle  —  a  request  which 
Charles  granted  with  great,  but  secret,  glee.  The  next 
day  brought  forth  nothing  but  ill-feeling  and  misim- 
derstanding,  which  was  brought  to  a  climax  by  the 
news  from  Lifege.  It  was  reported  that  the  emissaries  of 
Louis  had  stirred  up  sedition  against  the  Duke,  and  had 
killed  the  Bishop  of  Lifege,  and  the  Lord  of  Hvunber- 
court.  Charles  was  a  man  of  tremendous  passions  and 
this  news  threw  him  into  a  fury  which  he  made  little 
attempt  to  control.  His  royal  guest  became  his  prisoner, 
the  gates  of  the  town  and  the  castle  were  closed,  and  for 
a  time  Louis  was  in  danger  of  his  life  at  the  hands  of  his 
enraged  vassal.  Louis,  meanwhile,  remained  calm,  mak- 
ing full  use  of  his  native  shrewdness,  keenness  of  pene- 
tration, and  imusual  cunning.  By  a  liberal  use  of  money, 
with  which  he  had  sagaciously  provided  himself,  the 
Duke's  servants  were  corrupted  wherever  he  could  hope 
to  secure  information  or  assistance.  His  craftiness, 
however,  proved  imnecessary.  Charles  cooled  off  after  a 
day  or  two  and  realized  that  he  could  not  well  afford  to 
violate  his  safe-conduct.  Meanwhile  the  news  from 
Lilge  turned  out  more  favourably.  The  Bishop  had  not 
been  slain  and  the  revolt  had  been  less  serious  than 

344 


QUENTIN  DURWARD 

supposed.  Charles,  however,  compelled  the  King  to 
swear  a  new  treaty,  which  Louis  did  by  taking  from 
one  of  his  boxes  a  piece  of  the  'true  cross,'  a  relic,  for- 
merly belonging,  so  it  was  said,  to  Charlemagne,  which 
Louis  regarded  with  great  veneration.  The  oath  upon 
the  cross  duly  made,  Louis  accompanied  his  captor  on 
an  expedition  against  the  town  of  Lifege,  the  particulars 
of  which  were  not  essentially  different  from  the  version 
of  Scott. 

The  novel  brings  out  to  great  advantage  the  striking 
contrast  between  the  King  and  the  Duke.  Charles  was 
strong,  vigorous,  clear-sighted,  and  in  the  words  of 
Philippe  de  Comines,  'a  great  and  honourable  prince, 
as  much  esteemed  for  a  time  amongst  his  neighbours  as 
any  prince  in  Christendom.'  The  great  fault  of  his  char- 
acter was  that  expressed  in  the  sobriquet,  Charles  the 
Rash;  and  this  was  the  cause  of  his  downfall.  That, 
however,  is  a  tale  which  Scott  reserved  for  a  later 
novel. 

Though  received  at  first  with  apparent  indifference, 
'Quentin  Durward'  came  in  time  to  be  regarded  as 
one  of  the  best  of  the  Waverley  Novels,  dividing  the 
honours,  in  the  minds  of  the  boys,  at  least,  with 
'Ivanhoe'  and  'The  Talisman.' 


CHAPTER   XXV 
ST.  ronan's  well 

If,  as  I  have  said  in  the  preceding  chapter,  the  true 
Scott  Country  comprises  the  United  Kingdom,  except 
Ireland,  the  inner  circle  of  that  country,  the  Sanctum 
Sanctorum,  so  to  speak,  must  be  considered  as  including 
that  part  of  Scotland  lying  between  the  Firth  of  Forth 
and  the  English  border;  or,  more  strictly,  the  counties 
of  Edinburgh,  Peebles,  Selkirk,  and  Roxburgh.  This  was 
Scott's  home,  his  workshop,  and  his  playground.  From 
the  spring  of  1806  to  the  early  winter  of  1830,  a  period  of 
nearly  twenty-five  years,  he  performed  the  duties  of 
Clerk  of  the  Court  of  Session.  This  required  his  pres- 
ence in  Edinburgh  usually  from  the  12  th  of  May  to  the 
12th  of  July  and  from  the  12th  of  November  to  the  12th 
of  March,  excepting  an  interval  at  Christmas.  This 
meant  from  four  to  six  hours'  work  a  day  for  four  or 
five  days  each  week,  extending  over  about  six  months 
of  every  year.  During  the  sessions  of  the  court  his  resi- 
dence was  No.  39,  North  Castle  Street,  a  three-story 
stone  dwelling-house,  within  sight  of  Edinburgh  Castle. 
The  day  after  the  rising  of  the  court  usually  foimd  its 
distinguished  clerk  ready  to  'escape  to  the  country.* 
For  six  years  his  retreat  was  the  little  thatched  cottage 
at  Lasswade,  in  the  vale  of  the  Esk.  The  next  eight 
summers  foimd  him  at  Ashestiel,  and  after  that  Abbots- 
ford  was  the  lodestone  that  drew  him  from  the  city. 
Scott  loved  the  wide  sweep  of  the  bare  hills,  especially 

346 


ST.  RONAN'S  WELL 

when  tinged  with  the  purple  hue  of  the  heather.  Their 
pure  air  was  the  tonic  which  had  saved  his  life,  when  as 
a  child  he  rolled  about  on  the  rocks  of  Smailholm,  a 
companion  of  the  sheep  and  lambs.  Their  streams  gave 
him  an  opportunity  to  lure  the  salmon  from  their  hiding- 
places.  Their  rounded  summits  gave  him  many  a  dis- 
tant view  of  battle-fields,  famed  in  the  Border  warfare, 
which  filled  up  centuries  of  Scottish  and  English  history. 
Their  pleasant  glens  and  thickets  gave  him  delightful 
walks  in  the  woods.  Their  hospitable  cottages  extended 
him  a  never  failing  welcome,  and  yielded  up  to  him, 
from  the  lips  of  hundreds  of  old  wives,  a  treasure  of 
Scottish  ballads,  songs,  and  tales  of  Border  chivalry. 
Their  castles  and  mansions  threw  open  their  doors  at  his 
approach,  rivalling  the  humbler  dwellings  in  the  cordial- 
ity of  their  greeting. 

No  wonder  Scott  loved  the  Border  country.  '  It  may 
be  partiality,'  said  he  to  Washington  Irving,  'but  to  my 
eye,  these  grey  hills  and  all  this  wild  Border  country 
have  beauties  peculiar  to  themselves.  I  like  the  very 
nakedness  of  the  land;  it  has  something  bold,  and  stem, 
and  solitary  about  it.  When  I  have  been  for  some  time 
in  the  rich  scenery  about  Edinburgh,  which  is  like  orna- 
mented garden  land,  I  begin  to  wish  myself  back  again 
among  my  own  honest  grey  hills;  and  if  I  did  not  see  the 
heather  at  least  once  a  year,  I  think  I  should  die ! ' 

It  was  while  riding  with  Lockhart  and  Willie  Laidlaw, 
along  the  brow  of  the  Eildon  Hills,  looking  down  upon 
Melrose,  one  fine  afternoon  in  July,  1823,  that  the  sug- 
gestion came  which  led  eventually  to  'St.  Ronan's 
Well.'  'Quentin  Durward'  had  recently  appeared  and 
Scott,  commenting  upon  its  reception,  remarked  that  he 

347 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

could  probably  do  something  better  with  a  German  sub- 
ject. *Na,  na,  sir,'  protested  Laidlaw, '  take  my  word  for 
it,  you  are  always  best,  like  Helen  MacGregor,  when 
your  foot  is  on  your  native  heath;  and  I  have  often 
thought  that  if  you  were  to  write  a  novel,  and  lay  the 
scene  here  in  the  very  year  you  were  writing  it,  you 
would  exceed  yourseK.'  'Hame  's  hame,'  smilingly 
assented  Scott,  'be  it  ever  sae  hamely.  There's  some- 
thing in  what  you  say,  Willie.'  Although  Laidlaw  insisted 
that  his  friend  should  'stick  to  Melrose  in  July,  1823,' 
Scott  took  a  little  broader  field  and  made  the  scene  of 
*St.  Ronan's  Well,'  the  valley  of  the  Tweed. 

This  was  the  country  which  he  had  pictured  in  'The 
Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel,'  at  the  very  beginning  of  his 
fame.  He  had  come  back  to  it  for  a  bit  of  the  scenery 
of  'The  Monastery'  and  'The  Abbot.'  These,  however, 
were  romances  of  an  earlier  period.  He  was  now  for  the 
first  time  to  write  of  his  own  country  in  his  own  time. 
The  tale  was  to  depict  society  life,  not  of  the  wholesome 
and  genuine  kind  to  which  Scott  was  personally  accus- 
tomed, whether  in  Edinburgh  or  the  country,  but  of  the 
type  he  had  seen  at  various  watering-places  and  sum- 
mer resorts  which  he  had  visited. 

'St.  Ronan's  Well'  may  be  considered  a  true  picture 
of  this  society  or  a  caricatiire,  according  to  one's  own 
sympathies.  Some  of  its  readers  have  been  able  to  find 
among  their  own  'social  set,'  Lady  Penelope  Penfeather, 
Sir  Bingo  and  Lady  Binks,  Mr.  Winterblossom,  Dr. 
Quackleben,  and  even  the  'man  of  peace,'  Captain 
Mungo  MacTurk,  and  have  praised  or  condemned  the 
author's  portraits  according  to  their  own  predilections 
toward  such  personages. 

348 


ST.   RONAN'S  WELI- 

Scott  saw  something  of  this  life  at  Gilsland  in  the 
memorable  simimer  of  1797,  the  year  when  he  met  Miss 
Carpenter  at  the  dance  in  Shaw's  Hotel.  Below  the 
hostelry  is  a  deep  and  attractive  glen,  through  which 
flows  the  river  Irthing,  and  just  above  the  bridge  span- 
ning the  river,  is  one  of  those  mineral  springs,  which 
have  the  strange  power,  whatever  may  be  their  medicinal 
virtues,  of  drawing  hundreds  of  people  away  from  their 
homes  in  the  summer  months.  There  is  another  of  these 
springs  at  Innerleithen,  on  the  banks  of  the  Tweed,  and 
for  this  reason  —  for  I  can  see  no  other  —  the  people  of 
that  town  have  laid  claim  to  the  honour  of  residing  in 
the  original  'St.  Ronan's.' 

Innerleithen,  now  a  prosperous  town  of  about  three 
thousand  inhabitants,  is  situated  amid  the  hills  which 
border  the  Tweed  in  the  most  picturesque  part  of  its 
course.  In  Scott's  time  it  was  only  a  small  village. 
Traquair,  on  the  contrary,  a  few  miles  to  the  south, 
was  of  more  importance  in  Scott's  time  than  now,  when 
it  is  a  mere  hamlet,  remarkable  for  nothing  except  the 
fine  old  feudal  mansion  to  which  I  have  previously  re- 
ferred.^ If  we  are  to  think  of  Innerleithen,  then,  as  the 
'ancient  and  decayed  village  of  St.  Ronan's'  we  must 
picture  it,  not  as  the  thriving  commercial  town  of  to-day, 
but  more  like  its  neighbour  on  the  south. 

Of  course  I  felt  anxious  to  taste  the  waters  of  the  real 
St.  Ronan's  Well,  and  made  a  journey  to  Innerleithen 
for  the  purpose.  I  gained  nothing  beyond  the  experience 
of  exchanging  a  good  shilling  for  a  bad  drink.  One  taste 
was  enough,  and  when  the  girl  was  n't  looking  I  threw 
the  rest  away.  I  found  an  old  two-story  house  in  the 
*  See  ante,  p.  106,  Chapter  vin,  '  Waverley.' 

349 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

town  which  claims  to  be  the  original  'Cleikum  Inn'  — 
a  claim  which  is  disputed  by  a  public  house  in  Peebles, 
'The  Cross  Keys  Hotel,'  formerly  a  pretentious  seven- 
teenth-century mansion.  The  latter  was  kept  in  Scott's 
time  by  a  maiden  lady  named  Marian  Ritchie,  who 
seems  to  have  possessed  some  of  the  characteristics 
which  the  novelist  exaggerated  in  his  delightfully 
himiorous  picture  of  Meg  Dods.  She  found  fault  with 
the  new  'hottle,'  and  did  not  hesitate  to  vent  her  sar- 
casm upon  those  travellers  who  ventured  to  stay  there  in 
preference  to  her  own  respectable  inn.  Scott,  according 
to  local  history,  was  occasionally  one  of  her  guests.  She 
ruled  with  a  rod  of  iron,  permitting  no  excesses,  and  did 
not  hesitate  to  send  a  yoimg  man  *hame  to  his  mither' 
if  she  suspected  him  to  be  imbibing  too  freely.  Scott 
gave  this  model  landlady  the  real  name  of  a  hostess 
whom  he  had  patronized  when  only  seventeen  years  old. 
It  was  on  a  fishing  excursion  to  a  loch  near  Howgate,  in 
the  Moorfoot  Hills,  when  Scott  and  three  of  his  boon 
companions  stopped  at  a  little  public-house  kept  by 
Mrs.  Margaret  Dods.  It  was  thirty-five  years  later 
when,  in  writing  'St.Ronan'sWell'  the  novelist  adopted 
the  name  of  the  real  landlady  for  his  fictitious  char- 
acter. 

So  far  as  the  rival  claimants  of  the  'Cleikum  Inn' 
honours  are  concerned,  I  do  not  believe  that  Scott  had 
any  particular  house  in  mind,  either  for  the  *  inn,'  or  the 
'hottle.'  Nor  can  I  find  any  evidence  of  the  existence  of 
an  'original' for  Shaw's  Castle,  the  family  seat  of  the 
Mowbrays,  though  Raebum  House,  near  St.  Boswell's 
Green  may  be  taken  as  a  excellent  type.  The  same 
doubt  applies  to  the  village  of  St.  Ronan's  itself.  Scott's 

3SO 


ST.   RONAN'S  WELL 

design  seems  to  have  been  merely  to  place  the  scene  of 
his  story,  broadly  speaking,  in  the  valley  of  the  Tweed. 

This  picturesque  stream  rises  in  the  high  lands  near 
Moffat  and  flows  north  through  a  country  still  wild 
and  solitary.  A  score  of  miles  or  less  from  its  source,  it 
makes  a  bend  toward  the  east,  above  the  town  of  Pee- 
bles, and  from  this  point,  until  it  discharges  its  waters 
into  the  North  Sea  at  Berwick,  there  is  scarcely  a  bend 
in  the  river  or  a  village  or  town  on  its  banks  that  does 
not  suggest  memories  of  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

From  the  high  ground  overlooking  the  river,  just  at 
the  point  where  it  bends  to  the  east,  we  had  a  view, 
through  the  trees,  of  surpassing  beauty.  Below  was  the 
ancient  Castle  of  Neidpath,  once  a  scene  of  stately 
splendour,  when  nobles  and  monarchs  frequented  its 
halls,  and  richly  attired  ladies  promenaded  in  the  well- 
kept  gardens,  laden  with  the  perfume  and  brilliant  with 
the  hues  of  many  flowers;  when  well-ordered  terraces 
lined  the  banks  of  the  stream  and  orchards  smiled  from 
the  surrounding  hillsides.  Amid  such  scenes  the  'Maid 
of  Neidpath '  sat  in  the  tower,  — 

To  watch  her  love's  returning  — 

and  broke  her  heart  when  the  lover  came  and  passed 
with  heedless  gaze  — 

As  o'er  some  stranger  glancing.* 

Time  and  Nature,  working  together  as  landscape 
artists,  have  converted  the  castle  into  a  picturesque 
ruin,  and  replaced  the  artificial  gardens  and  terraces 
with  thick  groves  of  fine  old  trees,  clothing  the  hillsides 

1  The  Maid  of  Neidpath,  1806. 
351 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

with  a  richer  and  deeper  verdure,  and  leaving  only  the 
river  as  of  yore,  still  brightening  the  scene  with  the 
sparkle  of  its  silvery  tide.  In  the  distance  we  could  see 
the  spires  and  chimneys  of  Peebles. 

Following  the  river,  we  passed  Innerleithen,  six  miles 
below  Peebles,  and  a  short  distance  beyond  we  paused 
for  a  moment  to  look  toward  the  ruins  of  Elibank,  high 
up  on  the  hillside.  This  was  Scott's  favourite  objective 
point  for  a  summer  afternoon  walk  from  Ashestiel,  and 
the  scene  of  the  famous  legend  of  *  Muckle-Mouthed 
Meg.'  ^  Two  miles  farther  on  is  Ashestiel,  where  Scott 
spent  many  happy  summers.  Keeping  the  left  bank  we 
soon  came  to  a  place  where  we  could  see  Abbotsf  ord  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  river  —  and  a  charming  view  it 
makes.  Then  comes  Melrose  with  all  its  varied  asso- 
ciations. Driving  toward  the  east,  we  ascended  a  hill 
near  the  simmiit  of  Bemerside  Heights  and  halted  to 
enjoy  'Scott's  favourite  view.'  Below  was  a  bend  of 
the  river  marking  the  site  of  Old  Melrose,  the  establish- 
ment which  preceded  the  more  pretentious  abbey  in  the 
village.  Far  away  were  the  summits  of  the  Eildon  Hills. 
On  the  day  of  Scott's  fimeral,  the  procession  climbed 
this  hiU  on  the  way  to  Dryburgh  Abbey,  the  hearse 
being  drawn  by  Sir  Walter's  own  coach-horses.  At  the 
spot  where  we  were  standing,  it  is  said,  the  faithful  ani- 
mals halted  of  their  own  accord,  not  knowing  that  their 
master  could  no  longer  enjoy  his  favourite  view. 

We  soon  came  to  the  beautiful  ruins  of  Dryburgh 

Abbey,  where  Scott  lies  buried.    It  is  a  place  he  was 

fond  of  visiting,  so  much  so  that  in  a  letter  to  Miss 

Carpenter,  before  they  were  married,  he  referred  to  it 

*  See  ante,  Chapter  i,  page  36. 

3Sa> 


SCOTT  S    TOMB,    DRYBURGH 


ST.  RONAN'S  WELL 

with  enthusiasm,  adding,  'When  I  die,  Charlotte,  you 
must  cause  my  bones  to  be  laid  there.'  This  brought  a 
lively  reply  from  the  young  lady : '  What  an  idea  of  yours 
was  that  to  mention  where  you  wished  to  have  your 
bones  laid.  If  you  were  married,  I  should  think  you 
were  tired  of  me.  A  very  pretty  compliment  before 
marriage.  .  .  .  Take  care  of  yourself  if  you  love  me,  as  I 
have  no  wish  that  you  should  visit  that  beautiful  and 
romantic  scene,  the  burying-place.' 

Still  farther  to  the  east  lies  Kelso,  where  Scott  spent 
several  summers  with  a  relative  and  attended  the  village 
school;  while  in  the  valley  below  lie  the  principal  scenes 
of  *  Marmion.'  Li  the  hills  to  the  north,  between  Melrose 
and  Kelso,  is  Sandy  Knowe,  the  farm  of  the  poet's 
grandfather,  where  the  fresh  air  of  the  Scottish  hills 
gave  a  new  lease  of  life  to  the  child  of  three  years. 
Some  recollections  of  these  early  days  found  their  way 
into  'St.  Ronan's  Well,'  pubhshed  nearly  half  a  century 
later.  A  frequent  visitor  at  the  fireside  of  Sandy  Knowe 
was  the  parish  clergyman,  Dr.  Duncan,  who  perhaps 
failed  to  appreciate  the  presence  of  a  poet  in  embryo. 
Scott  had  early  committed  to  memory  long  passages 
from  Ramsay's  'Tea-Table  Miscellany'  and  one  or  two 
other  favourite  volumes,  which  he  would  shout  at  the 
top  of  his  voice,  regardless  of  the  presence  of  the  good 
minister,  who  would  testily  exclaim,  '  One  may  as  well 
speak  in  the  mouth  of  a  cannon  as  where  that  child  is.' 
The  old  gentleman  lived  to  be  nearly  ninety.  'He  was,' 
says  Scott,  'a  most  excellent  and  benevolent  man,  a 
gentleman  in  every  feeling,  and  altogether  different  from 
those  of  his  order  who  cringe  at  the  tables  of  the  gentry 
or  domineer  and  riot  at  those  of  the  yeomanry.'  There 

353 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

seems  to  be  no  doubt  that  in  the  personage  of  Mr.  Josiah 
Cargill,  the  shy,  absent-minded,  but  learned  and  con- 
scientious, and  always  lovable,  clergyman  of '  St.  Ronan's 
Well,'  Scott  drew  a  p>ortrait  of  the  excellent  divine  whom 
he  had  learned  to  respect  in  his  early  days. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

REDGAUNTLET 

I  WAS  standing,  one  afternoon,  among  some  rugged 
rocks,  half  covered  with  sand  and  seaweed,  which  lined 
the  shores  of  the  Solway  Firth,  when  my  attention  was 
suddenly  attracted  by  a  large  black  horse  ridden  by  a 
woman.  They  were  far  away  from  shore  and  the  animal 
seemed  to  be  lightly  cantering  over  the  surface  of  the 
water.  I  suddenly  realized  the  peculiar  characteristic  of 
the  Solway.  The  tide  was  going  out  and  what  seemed  to 
be  the  surface  of  a  wide,  inland  sea  was  in  reality  a 
broad  stretch  of  glistening  white  sand,  still  wet  enough 
to  catch  and  reflect  the  rays  of  the  sun. 

In  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  rider  was  a  woman,  I  was 
reminded  of  the  thrilling  incident  that  marks  one  of  the 
earlier  chapters  of  'Redgauntlet.'  Darsie  Latimer  had 
wandered  out  in  the  late  afternoon  over  the  wet  sands  of 
the  Solway,  watching  with  great  interest  the  exertions 
of  some  horsemen,  who  were  intent  upon  the  sport  of 
spearing  salmon.  The  ebb  of  the  tide  leaves  numberless 
little  pools,  formed  by  the  inequality  of  the  surface,  and 
in  these  the  fish  dart  about,  making  frantic  efforts  to 
escape  to  deeper  water.  The  horsemen  chase  the  salmon 
at  full  gallop,  striking  at  them  with  their  spears,  —  a 
form  of  amusement  requiring  great  skill  and  perfect 
horsemanship.  The  riders  had  ceased  their  sport  and 
were  returning  to  the  shore,  while  Darsie  lingered  on  the 
sands.  Suddenly  he  heard  an  abrupt  voice,  calling  out, 

355 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

*Soho,  brother!  you  are  late  for  Bowness  to-night';  and, 
turning,  recognized  the  most  expert  of  the  sahnon 
fishers,  a  tall  man  riding  a  p)Owerful  black  horse.  Darsie 
replied  that  he  was  a  stranger  and  about  to  return  to 
the  shore.  'Best  make  haste,  then,'  said  the  fisherman. 
'He  that  dreams  on  the  bed  of  the  Solway,  may  wake  in 
the  next  world.  The  sky  threatens  a  blast  that  will 
bring  in  the  waves  three  feet  abreast.'  The  young  man, 
not  realizing  the  danger,  had  to  be  warned  a  third  time, 
and  finally  was  pulled  up  on  the  horse  behind  his  rescuer, 
who  was  compelled  to  gallop  to  safety  at  full  speed. 

At  a  later  time,  the  tall  fisherman,  who  proved  to  be 
Hugh  Redgauntlet,  kidnapped  young  Latimer,  whom  he 
had  recognized  as  his  long-lost  nephew,  and  carried  him 
in  a  cart  across  the  Solway  to  England.  While  lying  on 
his  back  upon  some  sacks  of  straw,  his  arms  and  legs 
tightly  boimd  with  cloth  bandages,  Darsie  again  heard 
the  rush  of  the  advancing  tide.  He  '  not  only  heard  the 
roar  of  this  dreadful  torrent,  but  saw,  by  the  fitful 
moonlight,  the  foamy  crests  of  the  devouring  waves, 
as  they  advanced  with  the  speed  and  fury  of  a  pack  of 
hungry  wolves.'  One  or  two  of  the  great  waves  of  the 
'howling  and  roaring  sea'  had  reached  the  cart,  when  he 
was  again  rescued  by  Redgauntlet  in  much  the  same 
manner  as  before. 

The  reality  of  these  fearful  tides  exceeds  even  Scott's 
vivid  description.  In  a  volume  published  more  than 
eighty  years  ago^  by  a  local  writer,  I  find  this  account :  — 

During  spring  tides,  and  particularly  when  impelled  by 
a  strong  southwester,  the  Solway  rises  with  prodigious 

*  Picture  of  Dumfries,  with  Historical  and  Descriptive  Notices,  by 
John  McDiarmid,  1832. 


REDGAUNTLET 

rapidity.  A  loud  booming  noise  indicates  its  approach,  and 
is  distinguishable  at  the  distance  of  several  miles.  At 
Caerlaverock  and  Glencaple,  where  it  enters  the  Nith,  the 
scene  is  singularly  grand  and  imposing;  and  it  is  beautiful  to 
see  a  mighty  volume  of  water  advancing,  foam-crested,  and 
with  a  degree  of  rapidity  which,  were  the  race  a  long  one, 
would  outmatch  the  speed  of  the  swiftest  horses.  The  tide- 
head,  as  it  is  called,  is  often  from  four  to  six  feet  high,  chafed 
into  spray,  with  a  mighty  trough  of  bluer  water  behind  — 
swelling  in  some  places  into  little  hills,  and  in  others  scooped 
into  tiny  valleys,  which,  when  sunHt,  form  a  brilliant  picture 
of  themselves.  From  the  tide-head  proceed  two  huge  jets 
of  water,  which  run  roaring  along,  searching  the  banks  on 
either  side  —  the  antennae,  as  it  were,  which  the  ocean  puts 
forth,  and  by  which  it  feels  its  way  when  confined  within 
narrow  limits.  A  large  fire-engine  discharging  a  strong 
stream  of  water  bears  a  close  resemblance  to  this  part  of  the 
phenomena  of  a  strong  spring  tide;  but  the  sea- water  is 
broken  while  the  other  is  smooth,  and  runs  hissing,  or 
rather  gallops,  along  in  a  manner  to  which  no  language  of 
ours  can  do  justice. 

Between  Bowness,  the  northernmost  point  of  Cum- 
berland, and  Whinnyrig,  south  of  Annan  in  Dumfries- 
shire, the  Solway  is  only  two  miles  wide.  It  is  now  safely 
crossed  by  a  railroad  bridge,  but  two  generations  ago 
the  Scottish  farmers  and  dealers  were  in  the  habit  of 
crossing  the  sands  at  low  tide  to  save  a  long  and  tedious 
detour  of  about  thirty  miles  by  way  of  Carlisle.  Many  a 
belated  traveller,  missing  his  way  in  the  darkness  or  the 
fog,  has  been  overtaken  by  the  tide  and  lost. 

All  the  scenes  of  '  Redgauntlet,'  except  those  in  Edin- 
burgh and  Dimifries,  are  laid  near  the  shores  of  the 
Solway.  Shepherd's  Bush  and  Brokenburn,  imaginary 
places,  of  course,  may  be  considered  to  be  somewhere 
on  the  Scottish  side  near  Annan.   Mount  Sharon,  the 

357 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

residence  of  the  kind-hearted  Joshua  Geddes,  supposed 
to  be  in  the  same  vicinity,  was  really  modelled  after  some 
pleasant  recollections  of  the  author's  boyhood  at  Kelso. 
It  was  a  place  of  quiet  contentment,  where  one  might 
wander  through  fields  and  pastures  and  woodlands 
by  convenient  paths  amid  scenes  of  peaceful  beauty. 
Even  the  partridges  and  the  hares  had  learned  the 
kindly  nature  of  the  good  Quaker  and  his  amiable  sister, 
and  did  not  fear  their  approach. 

Scott  drew  the  charming  picture  of  the  Quaker 
household  from  his  early  friendship  for  the  Waldie 
family  in  Kelso.  Their  son  Robert  was  one  of  his  school- 
fellows. He  spent  many  happy  hours  in  their  hospitable 
home,  where  he  was  treated  with  the  utmost  kindness 
by  Robert's  mother,  universally  known  in  the  neighbour- 
hood as  Lady  Waldie.  A  privilege  which  Scott  particu- 
larly appreciated  was  the  permission  to  'rummage  at 
pleasure'  through  the  small  but  well-selected  library 
which  the  good  lady's  deceased  husband  had  left  her. 

On  the  EngUsh  side  of  the  Solway,  the  Wampool 
River,  where  the  Jiunping  Jenny  landed  Alan  Fairford, 
along  with  a  cargo  of  contraband  goods,  including  gun- 
powder for  the  use  of  the  Jacobites,  may  be  easily  foimd 
on  the  map.  The  English  scenes  were  laid  between  here 
and  Carlisle,  but  the  story  of  the  visit  to  this  region  of 
Charles  Edward,  disguised  as  Father  Buonaventure,  is 
pure  fiction,  and  of  course  the  localities  cannot  be 
identified,  except  Burgh-upon-Sands,  where  there  is  a 
monument  to  Edward  I,  to  which  Hugh  Redgauntlet 
refers  as  the  party  is  passing  by. 

The  English  residence  of  Hugh  Redgauntlet  to  which 
Darsie  was  conducted  by  his  captor,  described  as  ancient 

358 


REDGAUNTLET 

and  strong,  with  battlemented  roof  and  walls  of  great 
thickness,  but  otherwise  resembling  a  comfortable  farm- 
house, is  purely  J&ctitious.  We  visited,  however,  on  the 
Scottish  side  of  the  Solway,  a  splendid  modem  castle, 
which,  judged  by  an  old  painting  of  the  place  as  it  was 
in  1789,  would  admirably  fit  the  description.  This  is 
Hoddam  Castle,  five  miles  southwest  of  the  village  of 
Ecclefechan,  Carlyle's  birthplace,  where  we  spent  a 
night  in  one  of  the  quaintest  little  inns  in  Scotland,  a 
survival  of  the  time  when  Scottish  inns  offered  few  com- 
forts to  the  traveller,  but  made  up  for  it  in  proffered 
sociability. 

Hoddam  Castle  is  beautifully  situated  in  the  midst 
of  a  grove  of  fine  trees  overlooking  the  river  Annan.  A 
battlemented  tower,  surmounted  by  conical  turrets, 
rises  high  above  the  extensive  modem  structure  sur- 
rounding it.  This  is  the  ancient  building,  for  centuries 
occupied  by  the  Herries  family.  Scott  originally  in- 
tended to  call  his  novel  'Herries'  instead  of  'Red- 
gauntlet,'  and  was  with  much  difl5culty  persuaded  by 
Constable  to  accept  the  latter  title.  The  old  castle  was 
built  in  the  fifteenth  century  by  John,  Lord  Herries,  to 
whom  was  granted  an  extensive  tract  of  land,  extending 
over  three  or  four  counties. 

The  Herries  family,  to  which  Hugh  Redgauntlet  is 
supposed  to  belong,  was  always  powerful.  In  their  later 
years,  like  their  fictitious  descendant,  its  members  were 
ardent  supporters  of  the  Stuart  family.  John  Maxwell, 
who  took  the  name  of  Lord  Herries  upon  his  marriage, 
was  a  zealous  defender  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots.  He 
assisted  her  escape  from  Loch  Leven  Castle,  fought  for 
her  at  Langside,  escorted  her,  after  the  battle,  to  his 

359 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

own  house  in  Galloway,  and  thence  to  Dundrennan 
Abbey,  and  finally  conducted  her,  in  a  small  vessel,  to 
England.  His  descendant,  William,  the  ninth  Lord 
Hemes  and  fifth  Earl  of  Nithsdale,  participated  in  the 
Jacobite  uprising  of  17 15.  He  was  made  a  prisoner  at 
Preston  and  sent  to  the  Tower,  where  he  was  tried  and 
condemned  to  death.  His  countess,  with  rare  courage 
and  resourcefulness,  first  forced  her  way  to  an  audience 
with  the  King  in  St.  James's  Palace,  and  pleaded  on  her 
knees  for  her  husband's  hfe.  Finding  this  ineffectual, 
she  paid  a  last  farewell  visit  to  her  husband,  taking 
several  lady  friends  with  her.  They  succeeded  in  dis- 
guising the  Earl  in  feminine  apparel  and  thus  effected  his 
escape.  When  Darsie  Latimer  was  obliged,  at  his 
uncle's  command,  to  wear  petticoats  as  a  means  of  con- 
cealing his  identity,  he  was  only  following  the  example 
of  one  of  his  ancestors. 

In  1690  the  castle  and  Barony  of  Hoddam  passed  from 
the  Herries  family  to  John  Sharpe,  and  remained  in  the 
hands  of  his  heirs  until  very  recent  times.  One  of  these 
was  Charles  Kirkpatrick  Sharpe,  Scott's  intimate 
friend,  who  helped  collect  the  'Minstrelsy  of  the  Scot- 
tish Border,'  to  which  he  contributed  two  ballads.  Scott 
was  a  frequent  guest  at  his  house,  and  he  often  dined 
with  Scott's  family  in  Edinburgh  or  at  Abbotsford.  He 
was  a  man  of  distinction  in  letters  and  an  artist  as  well. 
Two  well-known  etchings  by  him,  the  'Dish  of  Spurs' 
and  'Muckle-Mouthed  Meg,'  besides  a  caricature  of 
Queen  Elizabeth,  adorn  the  walls  of  Abbotsford.  His 
ancestors,  like  the  Herries  family,  were  ardent  Jaco- 
bites. 

The  Sharpes  claimed  relationship  to  the  notorious 
360 


REDGAUNTLET 

Grierson  of  Lag,  who  was  the  original  of  Sir  Robert 
Redgauntlet  in  'Wandering  Willie's  Tale.'  Sir  Robert 
Grierson,  who  was  bom  in  1655  and  died  in  1733,  was 
an  infamous  scoundrel  who  took  fiendish  delight  in  per- 
secuting the  Covenanters.  In  his  drunken  revels  he  made 
them  the  theme  of  scurrilous  jests.  In  a  vaulted  chamber 
of  his  Castle  of  Lag,  now  in  ruins,  he  had  an  iron  hook 
upon  which  he  hanged  his  prisoners.  Often  he  would 
amuse  himself  by  rolling  his  victims  down  a  steep  hiU 
in  barrels  filled  with  knives  and  iron  spikes.  He  was  an 
object  of  terror  and  hatred  through  all  the  neighbouring 
country  and  for  many  years  after  his  death  was  repre- 
sented in  theatrical  productions  as  a  hideous  monster. 
Scott  heard  in  his  youth  the  wild  tales  of  the  terrible 
Grierson,  and  made  them  the  basis  of  the  story  told  by 
Wandering  Willie. 

If  by  Redgauntlet  Castle  we  mean  the  house  of  the 
blind  fiddler's  hero,  we  must  take  for  its  original  the 
ancient  ruin  of  Lag  Castle,  built  in  the  fourteenth  cen- 
tury; but  if  the  seat  of  the  Herries  family  is  meant, 
Hoddam  Castle  is  of  course  the  prototype,  even  though 
Scott  places  it  on  the  English  side  of  the  Solway. 

A  bit  of  scenery  worth  recalling  in  connection  with  this 
novel  is  the  Marquis  of  Annandale's  Beefstand,  or  as  it 
is  now  called,  the  Devil's  Beef  Tub,  the  place  where  the 
Laird  of  Summertrees  had  his  wonderful  adventure, 
escaping  from  his  captors  by  rolling,  over  and  over,  like 
a  barrel,  down  the  steep  incline  that  leads  to  the  bot- 
tom of  the  hollow.  It  is  as  lonely  and  desolate  a  spot  as 
we  saw  anywhere  in  Scotland.  The  hills  circle  about  to 
form  a  huge  bowl,  in  the  rim  of  which  there  is  apparently 
no  break,  so  that  one  wonders  how  the  little  brook  at  the 

361 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

bottom  manages  to  find  an  outlet  so  as  to  remain  a 
brook  at  all,  instead  of  accumulating  its  waters  to  form 
a  great  natural  lake.  The  old  Border  raiders  used  the 
hollow  as  a  convenient  place  in  which  to  collect  stolen 
cattle.  From  the  road  on  the  rim  it  seems  to  be  a  dark, 
dismal  hole,  without  sign  of  life  except  an  occasional 
ring  of  earth  and  stone,  built  for  the  protection  of  the 
sheep.  Scott  knew  personally  a  Jacobite  gentleman, 
who  escaped  at  this  place  in  precisely  the  same  manner 
as  *Pate-in-Peril,'  while  being  taken  to  Carlisle  a 
prisoner  for  participation  in  the  'affair  of  1745.' 

'Redgaimtlet'  is  autobiographical  to  a  greater  extent 
than  any  other  of  Scott's  novels.  It  is  true  that  *  Waver- 
ley '  gives  a  hint  of  his  own  early  love  of  reading,  while 
'The  Antiquary'  reflects  his  interest  in  the  relics  of  an 
older  civilization.  Indeed,  bits  of  personal  reminis- 
cence are  woven  into  nearly  all  his  tales.  But  'Red- 
gauntlet'  more  directly  reveals  Scott  himself  and  those 
nearest  to  him  than  any  or  all  of  the  others. 

The  voluminous  correspondence  of  Alan  Fairford  and 
Darsie  Latimer  is  full  of  recollections  of  school  days  in 
Edinburgh,  when  as  a  boy  Scott  climbed  the  'kittle 
nine  stanes, '  a  difficult  and  dangerous  passage  over  the 
steep  granite  rock  upon  which  the  castle  stands,  or 
helped  'man  the  Cowgate  Port,'  an  ancient  gateway  to 
the  city  from  which  the  youngsters  in  snowballing  time 
annoyed  the  passers-by  and  defied  the  town  guard.  One 
of  his  most  intimate  companions  in  the  days  when  he 
was  reading  law  was  William  Clerk,  whom  he  describes 
as  a  man  of  acute  'intellect  and  powerful  apprehension,' 
but  somewhat  trammelled  with '  the  fetters  of  indolence.' 
There  is  no  doubt  that  Scott  himself  was  the  original  of 

362 


REDGAUNTLET 

Alan  Fairf ord  nor  that  William  Clerk  was  the  model  for 
Darsie  Latimer.  The  fine  portrait  of  Saunders  Fairford, 
who  was  so  anxious  to  have  his  son '  attain  the  proudest 
of  all  distinctions  —  the  rank  and  fame  of  a  well-em- 
ployed lawyer,'  was  drawn  from  Scott's  own  father, 
many  years  after  the  death  of  that  worthy  gentleman. 

Mr.  Saunders  Fairford,  .  .  .  was  a  man  of  business  of  the 
old  school,  moderate  in  his  charges,  economical  and  even 
niggardly  in  his  expenditure,  strictly  honest  in  conducting 
his  own  affairs  and  those  of  his  clients,  but  taught  by  long 
experience  to  be  wary  and  suspicious  in  observing  the  mo- 
tions of  others.  Punctual  as  the  clock  of  St.  Giles  tolled 
nine,  the  neat  dapper  form  of  the  little  hale  old  gentleman 
was  seen  at  the  threshold  of  the  Court-hall .  .  .  trimly 
dressed  in  a  complete  suit  of  snuff-coloured  brown,  with 
stockings  of  silk  or  woolen,  as  suited  the  weather;  a  bob  wig 
and  a  small  cocked  hat;  shoes  blacked  as  Warren  would 
have  blacked  them;  silver  shoe-buckles  and  a  gold  stock- 
buckle,  A  nosegay  in  summer,  and  a  sprig  of  holly  in  winter, 
completed  his  well-known  dress  and  appearance. 

Even  Peter  Peebles,  the  poor  old  derelict,  ruined  by  a 
lifetime  of  perpetual  litigation,  was  a  real  character, 
well  known  in  Edinburgh,  and  Scott  himself,  in  com- 
mon with  most  young  lawyers,  took  his  turn  in  'prac- 
tising' on  this  case. 

The  re-introduction  of  Charles  Edward,  who  was  so 
fascinating  as  a  figure  in  'Waverley,'  was  not  so  suc- 
cessful. In  the  earlier  novel,  his  movements  are,  in  the 
main,  historically  accurate.  His  reappearance,  twenty 
years  later,  under  circumstances  purely  fictitious,  is  by 
comparison  almost  wholly  lacking  in  interest.  There  is, 
however,  a  certain  attractiveness  about  the  enthusiasm 
of  his  ardent  supporter,  Hugh  Redgauntlet,  and  the 

363 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

book  is  not  lacking  in  minor  characters,  who  are  almost 
as  fascinating  as  any  of  the  novelist's  earUer  creations. 
Wandering  Willie  is  one  of  these  —  the  blind  fiddler 
who  holds  commimication  with  the  captive  Darsie,  by 
the  rendering  of  appropriate  tunes,  the  words  of  which 
the  latter  is  quick  to  recall  and  clever  enough  to  inter- 
pret. Another  is  Nanty  Ewart,  the  skipper  of  the 
Jumping  Jenny,  who  can  read  his  Sallust  like  a  scholar, 
and  appeals  to  one's  sympathies  in  spite  of  his  dissipa- 
tion. 

Although  'Redgauntlet'  was  at  first  received  some- 
what coldly,  it  is  nevertheless  true,  in  the  words  of  Lady 
Louisa  Stuart,  that '  the  interest  is  so  strong  one  cannot 
lay  it  down.'  Its  lack  of  value  historically  is  more  than 
offset  by  the  personal  interest  of  its  characters  and  the 
many  episodes  of  intense  dramatic  realism. 


CHAPTER  XXVn 

TALES   OF  THE  CRUSADERS 

The  two  stories  published  simultaneously  under  this 
title  are  widely  different  in  character.  In  'The  Be- 
trothed,' the  reader  gets  no  glimpse  of  the  Holy  Land, 
though  he  is  amply  compensated  by  a  view  of  some  of  the 
most  delightful  portions  of  picturesque  Wales.  In  'The 
Talisman,'  on  the  contrary,  not  only  is  the  whole  of  the 
stage-setting  in  Palestine,  but  our  old  friend,  Richard 
the  Lion-Hearted,  who  made  such  strong  appeals  to  our 
sympathies  in  'Ivanhoe,'  appears  once  more  on  the 
scene.  Perhaps  this  fact  accounts  for  the  great  popu- 
larity of  'The  Talisman,'  which  has  always  gone  hand  in 
hand  with  'Ivanhoe,'  in  the  estimation  of  the  younger 
readers,  at  least,  and  possibly  the  older  ones,  especially 
in  England  and  America,  as  among  the  most  attractive 
of  Scott's  novels.  '  The  Betrothed '  is  no  more  a  tale  of 
the  Crusades  than  is  'Ivanhoe.'  In  the  former  the  Con- 
stable de  Lacy  is  supposed  to  be  absent  in  the  Holy 
Land  a  few  years  and  returns  in  disguise.  King  Richard 
does  the  same  in  'Ivanhoe.' 

James  Ballantyne,  who  was  always  a  candid  critic, 
found  so  much  fault  with  'The  Betrothed'  that  Scott, 
bitterly  disappointed,  decided  to  cancel  it  altogether. 
The  sheets  were  hung  up  in  Ballantyne's  warehouse, 
while  Scott  started  a  new  tale  which  should  be  really  a 
story  of  the  Crusades.  Ballantyne  was  as  much  pleased 
with  'The  Talisman'  as  he  had  been  disappointed  with 

365 


THE   COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

its  predecessor.  Both  author  and  printer  hesitated  to 
destroy  the  sheets  of  an  entire  edition  of  the  earlier  pro- 
duction, and  it  was  finally  decided  that  'The  Talisman' 
was  such  a  masterpiece  that  it  might  be  relied  upon  to 
'take  the  other  under  its  wing.'  The  publication  of  the 
two  volumes  as  the  'Tales  of  the  Crusaders'  seemed  to 
justify  Ballantyne's  faith,  for,  says  Lockhart,  'The 
brightness  of  "The  Talisman"  dazzled  the  eyes  of  the 
million  as  to  the  defects  of  the  twin  story.'  Whether 
this  opinion  would  be  endorsed  by  careful  readers  of 
to-day  is  doubtful,  for  'The  Betrothed'  has  some  excel- 
lent characters,  notably  Eveline  Berenger,  Wilkin 
Flammock,  and  his  daughter  Rose,  Hugo  de  Lacy,  and 
his  high-minded  nephew  Damian.  Moreover,  Scott 
here  adds  to  his  'country'  a  bit  of  the  United  Kingdom, 
which  he  had  not  previously  touched,  and  does  it  with 
his  usual  charm. 

The  novelist's  information  regarding  Welsh  history 
and  antiquities  was  derived  largely  from  conversations 
with  his  friend,  the  Rev.  John  Williams,  Archdeacon  of 
Cardigan,  who  had  made  a  special  study  of  the  subject. 
But  he  had  always  felt  an  interest  in  that  region.  '  There 
are,'  he  writes  to  Joanna  Bailie  in  1814,  'few  countries 
I  long  so  much  to  see  as  Wales.  The  first  time  I  set  out 
to  see  it  I  was  caught  by  the  way  and  married.  God  help 
me!  The  next  time,  I  went  to  London  and  spent  all  my 
money  there.  What  will  be  my  third  interruption,  I  do 
not  know,  but  the  circumstances  seem  ominous.' 
Whether  he  actually  saw  the  coimtry  before  writing  the 
novel  is  doubtful.  He  did  visit  it,  however,  in  August  of 
1825,  just  after  'The  Betrothed'  was  published,  and 
stopped  at  LlangoUen,  where  he  paid  a  visit  to  the 

366 


TALES  OF  THE  CRUSADERS 

famous  'Ladies'  of  that  place.  These  two  old  ladies, 
one  seventy  and  the  other  sixty-five  when  Scott  saw 
them,  had  'eloped'  together  from  Ireland,  when  they 
were  yoimg  girls,  one  of  them  dressed  as  a  footman  in 
buckskin  breeches.  Valuing  their  liberty  above  all  the 
allurements  of  matrimony,  they  made  a  secret  journey 
to  Wales,  and  for  fifty  years  lived  a  quiet  and  comfort- 
able life  in  the  beautiful  vale  of  Llangollen. 

Local  tradition  assigns  this  lovely  valley  as  the  scene 
of  'The  Betrothed.'  Although  this  may  be  doubted,  it 
is  nevertheless  fairly  representative  of  what  Scott  evi- 
dently had  in  mind.  The  river  Dee  winds  among  a  maze 
of  low,  partially  wooded,  and  well-rounded  hilltops,  here 
and  there  finding  its  way  through  green  meadows,  set  off 
by  hedges  of  full-grown  trees,  and  at  each  turn  ghstening 
in  the  sun  like  a  broad  ribbon  of  silver. 

I  was  induced  to  walk  up  a  long  sloping  hillside  for  a 
distance  of  about  three  miles  from  the  village,  and  was 
rewarded  at  the  summit  by  a  superb  view  of  northern 
Wales,  for  many  miles  in  every  direction,  and  at  the 
same  time  saw  the  ruins  of  the  ancient  Castell  Dinas 
Bran.  This,  or  something  very  like  it,  must  have  been 
the  Garde  Doloureuse  of  the  novel.  It  certainly  had  all 
the  natural  advantages  claimed  for  that  ancient  Welsh 
stronghold,  for  no  army  would  have  found  it  easy  to 
ascend  that  hill  in  the  face  of  a  determined  garrison. 
The  ruin  has  the  indications  also  of  having  been  well 
fortified  by  the  art  of  man,  its  walls  enclosing  an  area 
two  hundred  and  ninety  feet  long  by  one  hundred  and 
forty  feet  wide. 

The  castle  may  have  been  built  by  the  Britons  before 
the  Roman  invasion.   A  well-founded  tradition  fixes  it 

367 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

as  the  seat  of  Eliseg,  Prince  of  Powys,  in  the  eighth 
century,  and  it  figures  in  actual  history  as  early  as  1200, 
when  it  was  the  residence  of  a  turbulent  Welsh  baron 
named  Madog. 

At  Welshpool,  directly  to  the  south  and  near  the 
English  border,  we  visited  the  magnificent  park  and 
castle  of  the  Earl  of  Powis.  It  stands  on  the  site  of  the 
ancient  Castell  Coch,  or  Red  Castle,  famous  as  the  seat 
of  the  great  Welsh  hero,  Gwenwynwyn,  who  flourished 
in  the  latter  part  of  the  twelfth  and  beginning  of  the 
thirteenth  century.  That  hero,  whom  Scott  calls 
Gwenwyn,  it  will  be  remembered,  upon  seeing  for  the 
first  time  the  beautiful  damsel  of  sixteen,  Eveline 
Berenger,  the  only  child  of  his  greatest  rival  and  the 
heir  of  the  strong  fortress  which  he  coveted,  promptly 
resolved  to  marry  her,  thus  starting  the  train  of  events 
which  are  recorded  in  the  novel. 

The  present  Powis  Castle  Park  is  a  magnificent 
demesne  of  nearly  a  thousand  acres.  Its  most  im- 
portant portion  is  a  great  deer-park,  in  the  midst  of 
which  stands  the  imposing  modern  palace.  The  herds  of 
deer  quietly  feeding  on  the  lawn  were  kind  enough  to 
pose  for  me,  when  I  made  a  picture  of  the  castle,  and 
added  greatly  to  its  picturesque  aspect.  On  the  south, 
the  sloping  ground  has  been  cut  into  broad  and  beauti- 
ful terraces,  surmounted  by  huge  yews,  trimmed 
smoothly  in  conical  form.  The  stone  walls  are  broken  by 
a  series  of  arches,  above  which  are  balustrades  and 
statuary  in  great  variety.  Clinging  vines  and  garden 
flowers  of  every  description  add  colour  to  the  beauty  of 
the  arrangement.  Below  the  terraces  is  a  gentle  slope, 
planted  with  fruit  trees,  and  then  a  level  lawn,  in  the 

368 


TALES  OF  THE  CRUSADERS 

midst  of  which  is  a  stately  elm.  The  whole  is  a  triumph 
of  landscape  gardening  which  would  have  amazed  the 
famous  Gwenwynwyn. 

Following  the  course  of  the  tale  our  next  objective 
was  the  city  of  Gloucester,  the  crowning  glory  of  which 
is  the  great  cathedral,  foxmded  by  the  Saxon  earl,  Osric, 
in  680  A.D.  The  massive  Norman  nave  was  commenced 
in  1088  and  the  fine  choir  was  completed  in  the  four- 
teenth century.  The  great  east  window,  measuring 
seventy-two  feet  in  height,  thirty-eight  feet  in  width, 
and  containing  two  thousand  seven  hundred  and  thirty- 
six  square  feet  of  glass,  is  the  largest  in  England  if  not  in 
the  world.  Passing  around  the  cathedral  we  found  a 
house  which  figures  in  the  story,  — the  Deanery,  as  it  is 
now  called.  It  was  formerly  the  prior's  lodge  of  the  old 
Benedictine  abbey,  and  is  the  oldest  house  in  Gloucester. 
Within  its  walls  a  meeting  of  Parliament  is  said  to  have 
been  held  by  Richard  II. 

Of  the  scenery  of  'The  Talisman'  it  is  difficult  to  say 
much  beyond  what  is  generally  known  about  the  Holy 
Land.  Scott  never  visited  Palestine  and  wrote  only  in 
general  terms.  He  did  contrive,  however,  to  inject  a  bit 
of  Scottish  scenery  with  which  he  was  familiar,  just  as  he 
managed  to  begin  the  novel  with  the  adventures  of  a 
Scottish  knight,  and  to  find  another  countryman  among 
the  retainers  of  King  Richard,  in  the  person  of  Sir 
Thomas  de  Multon,  the  Lord  of  Gilsland,  whose  'love 
and  devotion  to  the  King  was  like  the  vivid  affection  of 
the  old  English  mastiff  to  his  master.' 

Readers  of  'The  Talisman'  will  recall,  in  the  mansion 
of  the  hermit  of  Engaddi,  the  beautiful  miniature  Gothic 
chapel,  and  will  quickly  note  the  resemblance  to  Roslin 

369 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

Chapel,  near  Edinburgh.  The  famous  feudal  baron, 
William  St.  Clair,  built  the  latter  in  a  spirit  of  penitence. 
An  old  manuscript  informs  us  that '  to  the  end  he  might 
not  seem  altogether  imthankf ull  to  God  for  the  benefices 
received  from  Him,  it  came  in  his  minde  to  build  a  house 
for  God's  service  of  most  curious  work,  the  which,  that 
it  might  be  done  with  greater  glory  and  splendour  he 
caused  artificers  to  be  brought  from  other  regions  and 
forraigne  kingdoms  and  caused  dayly  to  be  abundance  of 
all  kinde  of  workemen  present.' 

The  foimdation  was  laid  in  1446.  It  is  called  'florid 
Gothic'  for  want  of  a  better  name.  There  is  no  other 
architecture  like  it  in  the  world.  It  is  a  medley  of  all 
architectures,  the  Egyptian,  Grecian,  Roman,  and 
Saracenic  being  intermingled  with  all  kinds  of  deco- 
rations and  designs,  some  exquisitely  beautiful  and 
others  quaint  and  even  grotesque.  There  are  thirteen 
different  varieties  of  the  arch.  The  owner  possessed 
wealth  and  wanted  novelty.  He  secured  the  latter  by 
engaging  architects  and  builders  from  all  parts  of  Europe. 
The  most  striking  feature  of  an  interior  crowded  with 
beautiful  forms  is  the  'Prentice's  Pillar,  a  column  with 
spiral  wreaths  of  exquisitely  carved  foliage. 

It  is  curious  to  think  of  such  a  chapel  as  this  con- 
cealed in  a  mysterious  mansion  in  the  desert  of  Engaddi, 
but  it  is  the  only  touch  of  realistic  description  in  the 
whole  book,  and  Scott  makes  use  of  it  with  his  usual 
skiU. 


CHAPTER  XXVin 

WOODSTOCK 

Between  the  completion  of  the  'Tales  of  the  Crusaders* 
and  the  next  novel,  'Woodstock/  came  the  distressmg 
change  in  Scott's  affairs,  that  set  apart  the  remaining 
years  of  his  life  as  a  period  of  sadness,  disappointment, 
grief,  and  physical  pain.  They  were  years  of  almost 
superhuman  exertion,  when  the  superb  personal  char- 
acter of  the  man,  backed  by  an  unconquerable  will,  tri- 
umphed over  an  accumulation  of  afflictions  that  would 
have  broken  the  heart  of  an  ordinary  person.  The  vic- 
tory cost  him  his  life  —  but  it  was  only  after  a  battle  of 
six  hard  years,  and  even  then  it  was  the  frail  body  and 
not  the  heart  of  the  man  that  succumbed. 

In  the  year  1825,  when  'Woodstock'  was  commenced, 
the  old,  happy  days,  when  writing  a  story  was  a  joyous 
pastime,  came  to  an  end  forever,  and  in  their  stead 
came  a  sense  of  toil  and  conscious  effort.  'It  was  a 
pleasant  sight,'  said  Lockhart,  'when  one  happened  to 
take  a  passing  peep  into  his  den,  to  see  the  white  head 
erect,  and  the  smile  of  conscious  inspiration  on  his  lips, 
while  the  pen,  held  boldly  and  at  a  commanding  dis- 
tance, glanced  steadily  and  gayly  along  a  fast-blacken- 
ing page  of  "The  Talisman."  It  now  often  made  me 
sorry  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  him,  stooping  and  poring 
with  his  spectacles,  amidst  piles  of  authorities,  a  little 
notebook  ready  in  his  left  hand,  that  had  always  used 
to  be  at  liberty  for  patting  Maida.' 

371 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

Lockhart  is  here  referring  to  the  vast  toil  required  in 
the  preparation  of  a  'Life  of  Napoleon/  which  Scott 
had  undertaken  immediately  after  returning  from  the 
tour  through  Ireland  and  Wales,  made  soon  after  the 
completion  of  'The  Talisman.'  It  was  the  year  when 
rumours  of  financial  troubles  in  London  began  to  reach 
his  ears,  followed  swiftly  by  the  failure  of  Constable 
and  the  Ballantynes,  and  later  by  the  sickness  and 
death  of  Lady  Scott  and  his  own  physical  suffering. 
Undaunted  by  misfortune  he  bravely  continued  his 
'Napoleon,'  and  soon  conceived  the  idea  of  composing 
a  work  of  imagination  at  the  same  time.  The  first  of 
three  volumes  of  'Woodstock'  was,  under  these  trying 
circumstances,  completed  in  fifteen  days  and  the  entire 
novel  in  three  months. 

The  news  of  Scott's  distress  had  spread  throughout 
Scotland  and  England  and  into  many  parts  of  Europe, 
and  there  was  naturally  a  keen  interest  in  the  story  which 
he  was  known  to  be  writing.  The  announcement  that 
Scott  was  the  author  of  the  Waverley  Novels  and  that 
the  man  who  had  accomplished  this  marvellous  success 
had  met  with  financial  failure  came  as  a  shock  and  a 
thrill.  'Scott  ruined!'  exclaimed  the  Earl  of  Dudley; 
'the  author  of  "Waverley"  ruined!  Good  God!  Let 
every  man  to  whom  he  has  given  months  of  delight  give 
him  a  sixpence,  and  he  will  rise  to-morrow  morning  richer 
than  Rothschild ! '  The  result  of  this  state  of  the  public 
mind  was  that  'Woodstock'  was  successful  beyond  the 
author's  fondest  dreams. 

The  village  of  Woodstock,  where  practically  the 
whole  of  the  scene  is  laid,  lies  about  eight  miles  north- 
west of  Oxford.  The  market-place  still  has  an  ancient 

373 


WOODSTOCK 

look,  though  the  houses  are  in  fairly  good  rq^air.  To 
readers  of  the  novel  the  chief  place  of  interest  in  the 
village  is  the  old  parish  church  where  the  Reverend 
Nehemiah  Holdenough  was  rudely  crowded  from  his 
pulpit  by  the  canting  Independent  soldier,  Trusty 
Tomkins,  who  proceeded  to  preach  one  of  those  weird 
sermons,  common  enough  at  that  time,  in  which  the 
texts  of  Scripture  were  perverted  to  apply  to  current 
events,  with  whatever  significance  the  orator  might 
choose.  A  fine  Norman  doorway  on  the  south  side 
marks  the  oldest  part  of  the  edifice,  dating  back  proba- 
bly as  far  as  the  twelfth  century.  The  north  side  is 
modern,  having  been  built  to  replace  the  older  walls 
that  were  torn  down.  The  tower  was  built  in  1783. 

The  real  interest  of  Woodstock  lies  not  in  the  church 
nor  the  village,  but  in  the  vast  park  and  palace,  now 
called  Blenheim,  the  property  of  the  Duke  of  Marl- 
borough. As  early  as  the  reign  of  William  the  Con- 
queror, Woodstock  was  a  royal  forest,  and  was  so 
designated  in  the  Domesday  Book.  His  son,  Henry  I, 
enclosed  it  with  a  wall  six  miles  in  circumference  (not 
so  large  as  its  present  extent)  and  rebuilt  the  house.  It 
was  here  that  Thomas  a  Becket  in  1162  began  the 
quarrel  with  King  Henry  II,  which  led  to  his  murder  at 
Canterbury.  King  Henry  added  to  the  old  palace  of 
Woodstock  the  famous  tower  and  maze,  where  'the 
fair  Rosamond'  might  be  safely  concealed  from  the 
jealous  eyes  of  Queen  Eleanor.  'Rosamond's  Well,' 
where  Tomkins  met  his  well-deserved  death  at  the 
hands  of  Joceline  Joliffe,  is  the  only  remnant  of  the  old 
palace  in  existence.  It  is  a  spring,  walled  in  and  paved, 
and  guarded  by  an  iron  fence.  We  drank  of  its  waters 

373 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

and,  following  the  instructions  of  the  old  woman  who 
acts  as  its  keeper,  threw  what  was  left  in  the  glasses  over 
our  left  shoulders  *for  luck.'  The  weU  was  originaUy 
within  the  walls  of  the  palace,  so  that  its  occupant  could 
obtain  water  without  the  risk  of  stepping  outside.  It 
may,  therefore,  be  considered  as  marking  approximately 
the  site  of  the  old  palace. 

Richard  the  Lion-Hearted  and  John  were  visitors  to 
Woodstock.  Henry  III  made  some  improvements  in 
the  house.  Edward  III  and  Queen  Philippa  were  much 
attached  to  Woodstock  and  often  made  it  their  resi- 
dence. It  was  during  their  reign  that  the  poet  Chaucer, 
who  was  first  a  page  and  later  a  royal  'esquire,'  was 
frequently  at  Woodstock.  He  married  one  of  the 
Queen's  maids  of  honour,  and  lived  in  a  house  in  the 
village  which  is  still  standing.  As  late  as  the  time  of 
James  II,  Woodstock  continued  to  be  occupied,  as  a 
favourite  country  seat,  by  the  English  sovereigns. 
During  the  great  Civil  War  it  was  the  scene  of  frequent 
skirmishes  and  in  the  time  of  the  Commonwealth  was 
in  the  possession  of  Cromwell. 

The  fantastic  performances  by  which  the  commission- 
ers of  the  Long  Parliament  were  imposed  upon  and 
badly  frightened  when  they  visited  Woodstock,  after 
the  execution  of  Charles  I,  for  the  purpose  of  destroying 
it,  are  fully  explained  in  Scott's  Introduction. 

In  1704,  as  a  reward  for  his  famous  triumph  in  the 
battle  of  Blenheim,  the  victorious  commander,  John 
Churchill,  was  created  first  Duke  of  Marlborough,  and 
presented  with  the  vast  estates  of  Woodstock.  Queen 
Anne  and  the  Parliament  bestowed  upon  him  in  addition 
the  princely  sum  of  £240,000  with  which  to  build  a 

374 


WOODSTOCK 

mansion.  Blenheim  Palace  is  the  finest  work  of  the  most 
famous  architect  of  his  day,  Sir  John  Vanbrugh,  who 
designed  the  building  by  command  of  the  Queen.  Its 
front  extends,  from  wing  to  wing,  three  hundred  and 
forty-eight  feet.  The  style  is  Italo-Corinthian.  Its 
spacious  halls  are  filled  with  splendid  tapestries  and 
many  valuable  paintings.  There  is  a  long  ballroom, 
equipped  as  a  library  at  one  end  and  with  a  great  pipe- 
organ  at  the  other.  The  park  comprises  two  thousand 
six  himdred  acres,  with  many  fine  beeches,  oaks,  elms, 
cedars  of  Lebanon,  and  an  avenue  of  lindens.  The  river 
Glyme,  which  flowed  through  the  estate  of  Woodstock, 
was  dammed  by  the  landscape  gardener  of  Blenheim 
and  converted  into  a  picturesque  lake,  over  which  is  an 
imposing  bridge.  In  a  remote  comer  of  the  groimds  we 
found  the  celebrated  King's  Oak,  a  fine  old  tree  supposed 
to  be  at  least  a  thousand  years  old. 

Two  characters  of  'Woodstock'  stepped  into  the  tale, 
direct  from  Scott's  own  household,  thus  giving  a  charm- 
ing personal  touch  to  this  novel  in  common  with  'Red- 
gauntlet'  and  several  of  the  others.  One  of  these  is  the 
fine  old  hound,  Bevis.  It  seems  curious,  in  view  of 
Scott's  fondness  for  his  dogs,  that  not  one  of  them  should 
find  a  place  in  any  of  his  stories  until  so  late  a  period  of 
his  life.  Bevis,  however,  made  up  for  the  previous 
omissions,  and  he  is  a  splendid  picture  of  Sir  Walter's 
favourite  staghound  Maida,  '  the  noblest  dog  ever  seen 
on  the  Border  since  Johnnie  Armstrong's  time.'  So 
wrote  Scott  to  his  friend  Terry,  adding,  'He  is  between 
the  wolf  and  deer  greyhoimd,  about  six  feet  long  from 
the  tip  of  the  nose  to  the  tail,  and  high  and  strong  in 
proportion.  .  .  .  Tell  Will  Erskine  he  will  eat  off  his 

375 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

plate  without  being  at  the  trouble  to  put  a  paw  on  the 

table  or  chair.'  This  noble  animal,  who  for  eight  years 

enjoyed  the  distinction  of  daily  companionship  with  one 

of  the  most  appreciative  masters  who  ever  lived,  came 

to  his  end  in  1824,  the  year  before  'Woodstock'  was 

commenced.   His  image,  sculptured  in  stone,  had  stood 

for  a  year  or  more  by  the  door  of  the  main  entrance  to 

Abbotsford,  as  a  *leaping-on'  stone,  which  Scott  found 

convenient  in  mounting  his  horse.    Maida  was  buried 

beneath  the  stone,  and  an  epitaph  in  Latin  was  carved 

aroimd   its   base,  Scott's   English  version  of   which 

reads;  — 

Beneath  the  sculptured  form  which  late  you  wore 
Sleep  soundly,  Maida,  at  your  master's  door. 

The  other  character  from  Scott's  household  was  his 
daughter  Anne  —  the  Alice  Lee  of  the  novel.  The  same 
loving  care  which  Alice  bestowed  upon  her  aged  parent, 
Scott  had  felt  at  the  hands  of  his  yoimgest  daughter. 
When  financial  disaster  began  to  weigh  him  down,  and 
Lady  Scott's  health  began  to  fail,  it  was  Anne  who 
tenderly  supported  her  beloved  father.  In  the  sad  days 
following  the  death  of  Lady  Scott,  she  accompanied  him 
to  London  and  Paris  and  was  by  his  side  when  he 
received  his  first  paralytic  stroke.  Her  health  was 
shattered  by  the  long  strain  of  her  mother's  illness  and 
death,  followed  by  that  of  her  father,  and  she  survived 
her  distinguished  parent  less  than  a  year. 

Regarding  the  historical  characters  in  the  novel,  the 
critics  seem  to  agree  that  the  portraits  of  Cromwell  and 
Charles  II  are  far  from  accurate  and  of  course  their  part 
in  the  story  is  imaginary.  When  Scott's  enthusiasm  for 
the  Stuart  family  is  considered,  and  his  sympathy  for 

376 


WOODSTOCK 

royalty  in  general,  as  well  as  the  habit  among  Scotchmen 
of  his  time  of  regarding  the  great  Protector  as  a  hypo- 
crite, it  must  be  admitted  that  his  picture  of  Cromwell, 
while  far  from  flattering,  is  on  the  whole  remarkably 
fair  to  that  stern  and  powerful  leader. 

Although  'Woodstock'  is  not  ranked  among  Scott's 
greatest  novels,  it  is  noteworthy  that  many  critics, 
including  Lockhart  and  Andrew  Lang,  both  of  whom 
usually  preferred  the  Scottish  romances,  saw  in  it 
great  merit.  In  one  respect  it  is  the  most  wonderful 
of  all  novels  —  in  the  self-control  which  enabled  its 
author  calmly  to  compose  a  well-constructed  story,  full 
of  incident  and  dramatic  power,  in  the  face  of  affictions 
which  would  have  borne  down  a  common  mind  to  those 
depths  of  despair  in  which  the  ordinary  duties  of  life 
are  forgotten.  Scott  here  proved  to  be  not  only  a  master 
of  the  art  of  story-telling,  but  the  master  of  himself. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

THE  FAIR  MAID   OF  PERTH 

TwoscoRE  years  elapsed  between  the  day  when  Walter 
Scott,  a  lad  of  fifteen,  felt  a  thrill  of  rapture  as  he 
viewed  the  valley  of  the  Tay  from  the  Wicks  of  Baiglie 
and  the  time  when  the  same  Walter,  a  worn-out  man, 
first  used  the  beautiful  scene  as  the  setting  of  a  novel. 
The  'inimitable  landscape,'  as  he  called  it,  took  posses- 
sion of  his  mind  and  retained  its  influence  during  the 
greater  part  of  his  life.  During  the  sad  years  of  dis- 
couragement, when  the  'Canongate  Chronicles'  had 
met  with  a  cold  reception,  and  his  critical  publishers 
were  expressing  their  views  somewhat  too  sharply,  Scott 
turned  once  more  to  his  well-loved  Highlands  for  the 
theme  of  a  story,  and  the  picture  which  had  so  aroused 
his  'childish  wonder'  came  back  again  after  more  than 
forty  years. 

Naturally  our  first  thought  upon  arriving  at  Perth 
was  to  find  the  Wicks  of  Baiglie  and  enjoy  the  same 
sensation  of  wonder  which  Sir  Walter  had  so  graph- 
ically described.  We  accordingly  drove  out  over  the  hills 
south  of  the  town,  on  the  Edinburgh  road,  till  we  came 
to  the  Inn  of  Baiglie,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  A  burly 
blacksmith,  who  looked  as  if  he  might  have  been  a 
descendant  of  Henry  Gow  himself,  told  us  that  many 
people  sought  the  view  which  Scott  had  described,  but 
*it  did  not  exist.'  Changes  in  the  road  and  the  growth  of 
foliage  had  completely  destroyed  the  prospect  from  the 

378 


THE  FAIR  MAID  OF  PERTH 

Wicks  of  Baiglie.  We  were  compensated  for  our  disap- 
pointment, however,  by  several  glimpses  of  the  valley 
from  Moncreiff  Hill  and  by  a  superb  view,  which  we 
enjoyed  the  following  day,  from  the  summit  of  Kinnoull 
Hill,  east  of  the  city.  At  the  foot  of  this  hill  is  the 
modem  Castle  of  Kinfauns,  replacing  the  seat  of  Sir 
Patrick  Charteris,  to  which  the  burghers  of  Perth  made 
their  memorable  journey, 

Perthshire  is  one  of  the  largest  coimties  in  Scotland 
and  excels  all  the  others  in  the  beauty  and  variety  of  its 
scenery.  Along  its  southern  border  lies  a  region  of 
moorlands,  set  with  sparkling  lochs  and  rippling 
streams,  in  the  midst  of  which  are  the  famous  Trossachs. 
On  the  north  are  the  rugged  summits  of  the  Grampian 
Mountains.  In  the  centre  is  Loch  Tay,  one  of  the  love- 
liest of  Highland  lakes,  fed  by  the  pure  moimtain 
streams  that  come  down  through  the  wild  passes  of 
Glen  Lochay  and  Glen  Dochart.  Its  outlet  is  the 
pleasant  river  Tay,  passing  down  the  eastern  border 
through  a  valley  of  green  meadows,  waving  groves, 
fertile  fields,  and  princely  palaces.  In  a  drive  of  one 
hundred  miles  from  Perth  to  Taymouth  and  back  again 
by  another  route,  we  saw  not  so  much  as  half  a  mile  of 
scenery  that  might  be  called  commonplace  or  uninter- 
esting. 

North  of  the  city  is  the  Palace  of  Scone,  which  became 
the  seat  of  government  in  the  eighth  century,  at  which 
time  the  famous  Stone  of  Scone  was  brought  from 
Dunstaffnage.  Most  of  the  Scottish  kings  were  crowned 
here,  until  Edward  I,  in  the  fourteenth  century,  carried 
the  stone  to  Westminster  Abbey.  Farther  north,  in  the 
same  valley,  is  a  bit  of  Shakespeare's  scenery.    We 

379 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

passed  through  the  Bimam  Wood  of  'Macbeth/  though 
we  saw  no  trees.  Perhaps  this  was  natural,  for  accord- 
ing to  Shakespeare  they  all  went  to  Dunsinane  Hill 
many  years  ago  and  the  bard  does  n't  say  that  they 
ever  came  back. 

Perth  is  an  ancient  dty,  having  received  a  charter 
from  David  I  in  the  early  part  of  the  twelfth  century. 
For  nearly  three  hundred  years  it  was  the  residence  of 
the  Scottish  kings,  who  occupied  during  the  greater  part 
of  that  time  the  monastery  of  the  Dominicans  or 
Black  Friars,  formerly  situated  near  the  west  end  of  the 
present  bridge.  This  is  the  church  to  which  Simon 
Glover  and  his  daughter  were  walking  when  they  were 
accosted  by  the  frivolous  young  Duke  of  Rothsay,  heir 
to  the  throne  of  Scotland.  It  was  founded  in  123 1.  The 
city  was  well  provided  with  other  religious  houses,  not- 
ably the  Carthusian  Monastery  founded  in  1429,  the 
Grey  Friars  in  1460,  and  the  Carmelites  or  White 
Friars,  west  of  the  town,  dating  from  1260.  All  of  these 
have  disappeared,  the  result  of  a  famous  sermon 
preached  by  John  Knox,  in  1559,  in  the  old  Church  of 
St.  John,  which  aroused  the  populace  to  a  frenzy  of 
excitement  against  the  Church  of  Rome.  St.  John's 
Church  was  itself  despoiled  of  everything  which  the 
mob  thought  savoured  of  popery,  its  altars,  its  images, 
and  even  its  organ  being  destroyed.  The  building  itself 
remained  unhurt.  Old  St.  John's  was  established  as 
early  as  the  fifth  century.  The  transept  and  nave  of 
the  present  building  were  erected  in  the  thirteenth 
century  and  the  choir  in  the  fifteenth.  At  present  the 
structure  is  divided  into  three  churches,  the  East,  the 
Middle,  and  the  West.  The  appeal  to  the  direct  judg- 

380 


THE  FAIR  MAID  OF  PERTH 

ment  of  Heaven,  to  determine  the  identity  of  the 
murderer  of  Oliver  Proudfute,  which  is  described  as 
taking  place  within  this  building,  was  based  upon  a 
widespread  belief  that  the  corpse  of  a  murdered  person 
would  bleed  upon  the  approach  of  the  guilty  person,  — 
the  same  superstition  which  Hawthorne  used  in  'The 
Marble  Faun.' 

Scott  gives  the  Black  Friars'  Monastery  a  conspicuous 
place  in  his  story,  as  the  residence  of  King  Robert  III. 
That  well-meaning  but  weak  monarch  had  three  sons: 
the  eldest,  David,  Duke  of  Rothsay,  died  at  Falkland 
Palace,  under  suspicious  circimistances ;  the  second, 
John,  died  in  infancy;  while  the  third,  known  in  history 
as  James  I,  nominally  succeeded  to  the  throne  on  the 
death  of  his  father  in  1406,  but  was  held  a  prisoner  by 
the  English  and  did  not  actually  come  into  his  inherit- 
ance imtil  1424.  One  of  his  first  acts  was  to  throw  Mur- 
doch, the  son  and  successor  of  the  Duke  of  Albany,  into 
prison,  and  a  little  later  he  punished  the  treachery  of  that 
nobleman  by  execution  at  Stirling  Castle.  James  I  was 
a  great  contrast  to  his  weak-minded  father  and  by  the 
decisiveness  of  his  character,  the  sagacity  of  his  states- 
manship, and  the  brilliancy  of  his  literary  attainments 
gave  Scotland  a  memorable  reign.  It  was  due  to  his 
untimely  death  that  Perth  lost  her  prestige  as  the  seat 
of  the  Scottish  kings.  He  was  suddenly  surrounded  by 
a  band  of  three  himdred  Highlanders,  who  entered  his 
apartment  at  the  Dominican  Priory  and  stabbed  him  to 
death  with  their  daggers.  The  horror  inspired  by  this 
assassination  caused  the  abrupt  transfer  of  the  Court  to 
Edinburgh  and  the  King's  successor,  James  II,  was 
crowned  at  Holyrood  Abbey  instead  of  at  Scone. 

381 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

The  house  of  the  Fair  Maid  of  Perth  may  still  be  seen 
in  Curfew  Street,  near  the  site  of  the  old  monastery.  A 
comparison  of  its  neat,  well-kept  appearance  with  the 
pictures  of  the  same  house  as  it  was  before  the  'restora- 
tion' shows  that  it  has  improved  with  age  as  wonder- 
fully as  Shakespeare's  birthplace  at  Stratford-on-Avon. 
Not  far  away,  in  a  very  narrow  and  squalid  close,  is 
another  house  celebrated  in  the  story  —  the  veritable 
residence  of  Hal  o'  the  Wynd.  The  rapid  multiplication 
of  the  Smith  family  may  cause  the  sceptical  to  doubt 
the  authenticity  of  this  landmark,  but  to  the  citizens  of 
Perth  it  is  the  original  dwelling  of  the  famous  Henry 
Smith,  or  Henry  Gow. 

The  great  public  park  and  playground,  north  of  the 
bridge,  known  as  the  North  Inch,  was  the  scene  of  the 
famous  Battle  of  the  Clans  which  took  place  in  1396. 
Thirty  sturdy  representatives  of  the  Clan  Chattan 
fought  to  the  death  with  an  equal  number  of  the  Clan 
Kay,  or  as  Scott  calls  them,  the  Clan  Quhele.  When  the 
conflict  was  about  to  conmience,  it  was  discovered  that 
the  Clan  Chattan  mmibered  only  twenty-nine,  where- 
upon a  citizen  of  Perth,  having  no  interest  in  the  strug- 
gle, volunteered,  for  the  paltry  sum  of  half  a  mark,  to 
risk  his  life  in  the  frightful  battle,  and  thus  made  up  the 
required  nimiber.  An  ancient  chronicler  sums  up  the 
result  in  these  quaint  words:  — 

At  last,  the  Clankayis  war  al  slane  except  ane,  that  swam 
throw  the  watter  of  Tay.  Of  Glenquhattannis,  was  left  xi 
perscnis  on  live;  bot  thay  war  sa  hurt,  that  thay  micht 
nocht  hold  thair  swerdis  in  thair  handis. 

There  is  a  touch  of  contrition  in  Scott's  portrayal  of 
the  cowardice  of  Conachar.    The  novelist's  brother, 

382 


THE  FAIR  MAID  OF  PERTH 

Daniel,  a  man  of  dissipated  habits,  had  been  employed 
in  the  island  of  Jamaica  in  some  service  against  a  body 
of  insurgent  Negroes,  and  had  shown  a  deficiency  in 
courage.  He  returned  to  Scotland  a  dishonoured  man 
and  Scott  refused  to  see  him.  A  stern  sense  of  duty 
impelled  him  to  refuse  even  to  attend  the  funeral  of  the 
man  who  had  disgraced  his  family.  In  later  years  he 
bitterly  repented  this  austerity  and  atoned  for  it  by 
tenderly  caring  for  the  unfortunate  brother's  child. 

Something  of  these  feelings  may  have  been  in  his 
mind  when  he  wrote  in  his  Diary  on  December  5,  1827: 
'The  fellow  that  swam  the  Tay  would  be  a  good  ludi- 
crous character.  But  I  have  a  mind  to  try  him  in  the 
serious  line  of  tragedy.  .  .  .  Suppose  a  man's  nerves, 
supported  by  feelings  of  honour,  or  say  by  the  spur  of 
jealousy,  sustaining  him  against  constitutional  timidity 
to  a  certain  point,  then  suddenly  giving  way,  I  think 
something  tragic  might  be  produced.  .  .  .  Well,  I'll  try 
my  brave  coward  or  cowardly  brave  man.' 

Campsie  Linn,  where  Conachar  made  his  final  appear- 
ance, and  with  a  last  despairing  shriek  'plunged  down 
the  precipice  into  the  raging  cataract  beneath,'  is  a 
pleasant  little  waterfall  in  the  Tay,  seen  through  a  small 
clearing  in  the  woods.  It  is  scarcely  a  cataract  nor  are 
the  precipices  formidable.  The  religious  house  where 
Catharine  took  refuge  has  completely  disappeared. 

Falkland  Castle,  to  which  the  Duke  of  Rothsay  was 
carried,  a  prisoner,  is  in  Fifeshire,  about  fifteen  miles 
southeast  of  Perth.  The  rooms  in  which  the  Prince  was 
quartered  were  probably  in  the  old  tower,  which  has 
completely  disappeared.  Excavations  made  by  the 
Marquis  of  Bute  in  1892  show  it  to  have  been  an  exten- 

383 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

sive  building  fifty  feet  in  diameter.  The  present  castle, 
or  the  greater  part  of  it,  was  built  at  a  period  somewhat 
later  than  that  of  the  story.  As  early  as  1160,  Falkland 
was  known  as  part  of  the  property  of  the  Earls  of  Fife, 
who  were  descendants  of  Macduff,  the  famous  Thane  of 
Fife,  who  put  an  end  to  the  reign  of  Macbeth  in  1057. 
On  the  death  of  Isabel,  Countess  of  Fife,  the  last  of  her 
race,  Falkland  came  into  the  hands  of  the  Duke  of 
Albany,  the  brother  of  King  Robert  III.  Albany  was 
intensely  jealous  of  his  nephew,  the  Duke  of  Rothsay, 
who,  after  attaining  his  majority,  began  to  display  traits 
of  character  more  worthy  than  those  ascribed  to  him  in 
the  novel.  He  was  entrusted  by  the  King  with  affairs  of 
some  importance  and  gave  promise  of  developing  into 
an  active  and  vigorous  successor  to  his  father.  This  was, 
of  course,  a  menace  to  the  plans  of  Albany,  who  sought 
the  crown  for  himself,  and  he  therefore  managed  to 
exaggerate  the  yoimg  man's  faults  to  the  King  and  to 
stir  up  suspicions  against  him,  until  the  feeble  monarch 
consented  to  allow  his  son  to  be  imprisoned  for  a  time 
as  a  cure  for  his  profligacy.  The  Queen,  who  might  have 
interceded  for  the  Prince,  was  dead,  as  was  also  the 
Bishop  of  St.  Andrew,  who  had  often  been  a  mediator 
in  the  royal  quarrels.  Sir  John  de  Ramomy,  the 
young  man's  tutor,  who  had  suggested  to  him  the  assas- 
sination of  Albany  and  had  been  indignantly  repulsed, 
revenged  himself  by  false  reports  to  his  pupil's  imcle, 
and  was  commissioned  by  the  latter  to  arrest  his  former 
charge.  The  Duke  of  Rothsay  was  thereupon  waylaid 
and  carried  to  the  Castle  of  Falkland.  The  common 
report  was  that  he  was  placed  in  a  dungeon  and  starved 
to  death.   It  was  said  that  a  poor  woman,  who  heard 

384 


HOUSE   OF   THE   FAIR   MAID   OF    PERTH 


THE  FAIR  MAID  OF  PERTH 

his  groans  while  she  was  passing  through  the  garden, 
kept  him  alive  for  a  time  by  passing  small  pieces  of 
barley  cake  through  the  bars.  Another  woman  fed  him 
with  her  own  milk,  which  she  conveyed  through  a  small 
reed  to  the  famished  prisoner.  Another  story  is  that  the 
daughter  of  the  governor  of  the  castle  was  the  one  who 
took  compassion  on  the  Prince,  and  that  her  wicked 
father  put  her  to  death  as  a  punishment  for  showing 
mercy.  The  Duke  of  Albany  and  the  Earl  of  Douglas 
were  charged  with  the  murder,  but  maintained  that  the 
Prince  had  died  from  natural  causes  and  the  Parliament 
imanimously  acquitted  them.  Lord  Bute,  who  gave 
much  study  to  the  records  of  the  case,  was  inclined  to 
doubt  the  commission  of  an  actual  murder,  but  admitted 
that  the  cause  of  the  young  Duke's  death  must  always 
remain  uncertain. 

James  I  and  James  II  made  important  additions  to 
Falkland,  and  James  V,  who  found  it  in  a  ruinous  condi- 
tion, made  many  extensive  repairs  and  additions.  It 
was  here  that  the  latter  king  died  of  a  broken  heart, 
at  the  early  age  of  thirty-two.  A  few  moments  before 
his  death,  when  informed  of  the  birth  of  his  daughter, 
Mary,  who  became  the  Queen  of  Scots,  he  exclaimed 
prophetically,  referring  to  the  crown, '  It  cam'  wi'  a  lass 
and  it'll  gang  wi'  a  lass.'  Mary  herself  visited  the  castle 
annually  for  five  or  six  years,  before  her  marriage  with 
Darnley  and  spent  many  happy  days  there.  Her  son, 
James  VI,  also  made  it  his  residence  and  was  living  there 
at  the  time  he  was  enticed  away  in  the  'Gowrie  Con- 
spiracy.' The  last  king  to  visit  the  palace  was  Charles 
II,  who  came  for  a  stay  of  several  days,  after  his  coro- 
nation at  Scone  in  1651.  Later  the  troops  of  Cromwell 

38s 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

occupied  the  place,  and  its  historical  interest  ceased  soon 
afterward. 

'The  Fair  Maid  of  Perth'  was  finished  in  the  spring 
of  1828.  When  the  author  laid  down  his  pen,  it  was  to 
mark  the  real  close  of  the  Waverley  Novels.  True, 
others  were  yet  to  be  written,  but  they  were  the  work  of 
a  broken  man,  and  failed  to  come  up  to  Scott's  high 
standard.  It  is  one  of  the  marvels  of  literature  that  a 
novel  so  attractive  and  interesting  as  'The  Fair  Maid' 
could  be  produced  under  circumstances  so  distracting 
and  painful.  No  one  places  it  in  the  same  rank  as  *  Guy 
Mannering'  and  'Ivanhoe,'  yet  it  was  popular  at  the 
time  of  publication  and  has  always  been  regarded  as 
entirely  worthy  of  the  reputation  of  the  *  Great  Wizard.' 
The  indomitable  will  of  the  master  was  still  able  to  hold 
his  matchless  imagination  to  its  task,  though  the  days 
of  its  power  were  now  niunbered. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

THE  CHRONICLES  OF  THE  CANONGATE  AND  OTHER  TALES 

The  remaining  tales  of  the  Waverley  Novels  require 
only  brief  mention.  There  is  but  little  in  them  of  the 
*  Country  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,'  and  scarcely  more  of  the 
author  himself.  They  are  the  final  efforts  of  a  man 
whose  extraordinary  buoyancy  of  youthful  spirit  is  at 
last  beginning  to  sink  beneath  a  burden  too  great  for 
human  endurance.  To  begin  at  fifty-five  the  uninspiring 
task  of  'paying  for  dead  horses'  the  vast  sum  of  £117,- 
ocx),  an  amount  which  few  men  are  able  to  earn  by 
honest  labour  in  all  the  days  of  their  lives,  required  a 
superb  courage  which  only  Scott's  high  sense  of  honour 
could  have  sustained.  Scarcely  had  the  resolve  been 
made  when  a  second  crushing  blow  fell  with  a  force 
more  stunning  than  the  first.  His  beloved  wife,  the 
companion  of  thirty  years,  was  taken  away  at  the  hour 
of  his  greatest  need.  She  who  could  relieve  the  tedium 
of  his  toil  by  slipping  quietly  into  the  room  to  see  if  the 
fire  burned,  or  to  ask  some  kind  question,  was  no  longer 
present  to  comfort  him.  He  felt  a  paralyzing  sense  of 
loneliness  and  old  age,  which  even  the  devotion  of  his 
daughter  Anne  could  not  relieve.  To  continue  the  awful 
grind  of  writing  for  money  —  for  something  which  he 
could  not  enjoy  nor  save  for  any  cherished  purpose,  but 
must  surrender  at  once  to  others  —  required  an  almost 
superhuman  exertion  of  wUl  power.  His  health  began  to 
fail.   Headaches  and  insomnia,  added  to  rheumatism, 

387 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

caused  him  great  distress.  His  early  lameness  became 
intensified  and  made  walking  so  painful  that  he  had  to 
abandon  what  had  been  his  favourite  form  of  exercise. 
The  once  vigorous  frame  had  prematurely  worn  out 
under  the  strain  imposed  upon  it.  Scott  had  become  an 
aged  man  at  less  than  threescore  years.  Yet  in  these 
years  of  disappointment,  grief,  and  physical  pain  he 
produced  an  amount  of  work  of  which  an  ordinary  man 
might  well  be  proud  had  it  represented  a  lifetime  of  toil. 
From  1826,  the  year  of  Constable's  failure,  to  183 1,  this 
man  of  iron  will  produced  no  less  than  forty^  volumes, 
besides  fifteen  important  reviews,  essays,  etc.,  and  in 
addition  supervised  the  publication  of  his  complete 
prose  writings  and  the  Waverley  Novels,  preparing  for 
the  latter  a  series  of  exhaustive  introductions  and  notes. 
I  have  anticipated  a  little  by  devoting  a  separate 
chapter  to  'The  Fair  Maid  of  Perth'  which  appeared  as 

*  The  volumes  were:  — 

Woodstock 3  volumes 

Life  of  Napoleon  Buonaparte 9 

Chronicles  of  the  Canongate,  First  Series,  —  comprising 
The  Two  Drovers,  The  Highland  Widow,  and  The  Sur- 
geon's Daughter 2 

Tales  of  a  Grandfather 12 

Chronicles  of  the  Canongate,  Second  Series  —  The  Fair 

Maid  of  Perth 3 

Anne  of  Geierstein 3 

A  History  of  Scotland 2 

The  Doom  of  Devorgoil  and  Auchindrane i 

Letters  on  Demonology  and  Witchcraft i 

Tales  of  My  Landlord,  Fourth  Series,  —  Covmt  Robert  of 

Paris,  and  Castle  Dangerous .__4 

40 

Three  short  stories,  which  Ballantyne  objected  to  including  in  the 
Canongate  Chronicles,  were  printed  in  The  Keepsake.  These  were 
'  My  Aunt  Margaret's  Mirror,'  '  The  Tap>estried  Chamber,'  and  the 
*  Death  of  the  Laird's  Jock.' 

388 


THE  CHRONICLES  OF  THE  CANONGATE 

the  Second  Series  of  the  '  Chronicles  of  the  Canongate  * 
in  1828.  The  'First  Series'  was  published  in  1827  and 
comprised  'The  Two  Drovers,'  'The  Highland  Widow,' 
and  'The  Surgeon's  Daughter.'  To  many  the  chief 
interest  lies  in  the  Introduction.  When  the  work  was 
first  projected,  Scott  thought  of  preserving  his  incognito 
by  conceiving  the  tales  to  be  the  work  of  one  Chrystal 
Croftangry,  an  elderly  gentleman  who  had  taken 
quarters  for  a  time  within  the  Sanctuary,  as  the  imme- 
diate vicinity  of  Holyrood  was  called.  Here,  as  in  the 
famous  Alsatia  of  London,  debtors  were  safe  from 
arrest.  Scott  at  one  time  feared  that  the  importunities 
of  a  certain  relentless  creditor  might  force  him  to  take 
refuge  in  the  Sanctuary.  On  November  i,  1827,  he  made 
this  entry  in  his  Journal:  'I  waked  in  the  night  and  lay 
two  hours  in  feverish  meditation  ...  I  suppose  that  I, 
the  Chronicler  of  the  Canongate,  will  have  to  take  up 
my  residence  in  the  Sanctuary,  unless  I  prefer  the  more 
airy  residence  of  the  Colton  Jail,  or  a  trip  to  the  Isle  of 
Man.'  Fortunately  this  creditor  was  silenced  by  Scott's 
generous  friend.  Sir  William  Forbes,  who  privately  paid 
the  claim  out  of  his  own  pocket.^ 

There  is  much  in  Mr.  Croftangry's  lengthy  biography 
to  remind  one  of  Sir  Walter  himself.  He  finds  pleasure 
in  visiting  the  Portobello  sands  to  see  the  cavalry  drill, 
suggesting  at  once  the  young  quartermaster  of  the 
Edinburgh  Volunteers,  who  rode  a  black  charger  up 
and  down  the  sands  while  he  composed  some  of  the  most 
spirited  stanzas  of  'Marmion.'  He  delights  to  spend  the 
wet  mornings  with  his  book  and  the  pleasant  ones  in 
strolling  upon  the  Salisbury  Crags  —  just  as  Walter, 

*  See  Chapter  V,  Rokeby,  page  95. 
389 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

the  high-school  boy  and  college  student  loved  to  do.  In 
Mrs.  Bethune  Baliol,  the  genial  old  lady  who  assists 
Mr,  Croftangry  in  his  literary  speculations,  we  have  a 
kindly  reference  to  a  dear  friend  of  the  author  —  Mrs. 
Murray  Keith,  who  died  at  eighty-two  years  of  age, 
'one  of  the  few  persons  whose  spirits  and  cleanliness, 
and  freshness  of  mind  and  body  made  old  age  lovely 
and  desirable.' 

The  volume  is  still  more  interesting  because  it  con- 
tains Scott's  first  printed  acknowledgment  of  the 
authorship  of  the  Waverley  Novels  and  gives  an  insight 
into  some  of  the  original  suggestions  of  both  characters 
and  scenery.  It  also  contains  an  account  of  the  Theatri- 
cal Fund  Dinner  held  in  Edinburgh  in  February,  1827, 
in  which  Scott  was  publicly  referred  to  as  the  author  of 
the  Waverley  Novels  and  acknowledged  in  the  presence 
of  three  hundred  gentlemen  the  secret  which  he  had 
hitherto  confided  to  only  twenty. 

'The  Highland  Widow'  is  a  story  of  that  wild  but 
beautiful  portion  of  Argyllshire  of  which  Loch  Awe  is 
the  chief  attraction.  Dumbarton  Castle,  where  the 
widow's  unfortunate  son  bravely  paid  with  his  life  for 
the  mistaken  teachings  and  indiscretions  of  his  mother, 
is  a  conspicuous  object  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Clyde,  a 
few  miles  below  Glasgow.  It  stands  on  a  high  rock,  the 
ciraunference  of  which  at  the  base  is  fully  a  mile.  It  is 
still  maintained  as  one  of  the  defences  of  Scotland,  in 
accordance  with  the  Treaty  of  Union. 

'The  Two  Drovers'  is  an  excellent  short  story  pictur- 
ing the  fife  of  those  men  who  drove  their  cattle  from  the 

390 


THE  CHRONICLES  OF  THE  CANONGATE 

Highlands  about  Doune,  to  the  markets  of  Lmcobishire 
or  elsewhere  in  England,  making  the  entire  journey  on 
foot,  sleeping  with  their  droves  at  night  in  all  kinds  of 
weather  and  enduring  many  hardships. 

'The  Surgeon's  Daughter,'  though  it  opens  in  one  of 
the  midland  counties  of  Scotland,  is  chiefly  a  story  of 
India,  and  the  scenery  is  therefore  not  a  part  of  Scott's 
Country,  for  he  never  saw  it.  The  good  old  doctor, 
Gideon  Grey,  was,  however,  an  old  friend  who  lived  in 
Selkirk,  Dr.  Ebenezer  Clarkson,  one  of  those  hard- 
working country  doctors  who  often  combine,  'under  a 
blunt  exterior,  professional  skill  and  enthusiasm,  intel- 
ligence, humanity,  courage,  and  science.' 

'Anne  of  Geierstein,'  though  sharply  criticized  by 
James  Ballantyne  and  regarded  by  the  author  himself 
as  a  task  which  he  hated,  is  nevertheless  a  wonderful 
work  of  imagination,  in  which  the  old-time  genius  is 
clearly  manifest.  Lockhart  points  out  the  power,  which 
Scott  retained  in  advanced  years,  of  depicting  'the 
feelings  of  youth  with  all  their  original  glow  and  purity,' 
and  says  that  nowhere  has  the  author  'painted  such 
feelings  more  deliciously'  than  in  certain  passages  of 
'Anne  of  Geierstein.'  He  assigns  as  a  reason  the  fact 
that  Scott  always  retained  in  memory  the  events  of  his 
own  happy  life,  and  besides  'he  was  always  living  over 
again  in  his  children,  young  at  heart  whenever  he  looked 
on  them.' 

Though  admittedly  erroneous  in  certain  historical 
details,  the  volume  contains  some  wonderful  descrip- 
tions of  scenery.  Scott  never  visited  Switzerland,  where 

391 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

the  chief  interest  of  the  story  lies,  but  seemed  to  have 
an  instinctive  grasp  of  its  charm,  which  he  accounted 
for  by  saying,  'Had  I  not  the  honour  of  an  intimate 
personal  acquaintance  with  every  pass  in  the  Highlands; 
and  if  that  were  not  enough,  had  I  not  seen  pictures  and 
prints  galore  ? '  The  story  opens  at  the  village  of  Lucerne, 
and  the  Lake  of  the  Four  Cantons,  beneath  the  shadow 
of  the  awe-inspiring  Mount  Pilatus.  Those  who  have 
travelled  from  this  point  to  Bale,  and  thence  down  the 
Rhine  to  Strasburg,  should  have  a  fairly  good  idea  of  the 
scenery  of  the  novel  —  better,  perhaps,  than  the  author 
himself.  Charles  of  Burgundy,  whose  character  and 
career  had  made  a  strong  impression  upon  Scott  through 
the  pages  of  Philippe  de  Comines,  appears  once  more, 
and  the  novel  closes  with  his  defeat  at  Nancy  and  tragic 
death  in  a  half-frozen  swamp,  the  victim  of  the  traitor- 
ous Campo-basso.  The  story  of  King  Rene  and  the 
events  at  Aix  in  Provence  was  an  afterthought,  woven 
into  the  tale  at  the  suggestion  of  James  Skene,  who 
supplied  the  necessary  details. 

'  Count  Robert  of  Paris '  is  a  tale  of  Constantinople,  a 
city  which  Scott  had  not  visited.  The  difficulties  under 
which  it  was  written  may  be  judged  from  such  expres- 
sions in  the  Journal  as  these :  *  My  pen  stammers  egregi- 
ously  and  I  write  horridly  incorrect';  'The  task  of 
pumping  my  brain  becomes  inevitably  harder';  'My 
bodily  strength  is  terribly  gone;  perhaps  my  mental 
also.'  The  spirit  which  enabled  him  to  persevere  in  spite 
of  Cadell  and  Ballantyne,  who  were  again  criticizing 
severely,  may  be  seen  from  these  lines : '  But  I  will  fight 
it  out  if  I  can.    It  would  argue  too  great  an  attachment 

392 


THE  CHRONICLES  OF  THE  CANONGATE 

of  consequence  to  my  literary  labours  to  sink  under 
critical  clamour.  Did  I  know  how  to  begin,  /  would 
begin  again  this  very  day,  although  I  knew  I  should  sink 
at  the  end.' 

In  spite  of  the  doctor's  advice,  he  kept  on  with  his 
dictation  —  for  he  could  no  longer  use  the  pen  —  and 
finished  'Count  Robert'  amidst  a  frightful  sea  of 
troubles.  He  had  suffered  three  or  four  strokes  of 
apoplexy  or  palsy,  and  had  experienced  daily  tortures 
from  cramp,  rheumatism,  and  increasing  lameness.  Yet 
in  the  midst  of  all  this  affictionhe  thought  of  his  credi- 
tors and  said  repeatedly  to  Lockhart,  'I  am  very 
anxious  to  be  done,  one  way  or  another,  with  this 
"Count  Robert,"  and  a  little  story  about  the  "  Castle 
Dangerous"'  —  thus  to  the  last  continuing  the  old 
trick  of  starting  a  new  story  before  its  predecessor  was 
finished.  He  even  resumed  his  youthful  practice  of 
going  in  search  of  material,  and  actually  undertook  an 
excursion  to  Douglas  in  Lanarkshire,  where  he  examined 
attentively  the  old  ivy-covered  fragment  of  the  original 
castle,  the  ruins  of  the  old  church,  and  the  crypt  of  the 
Douglases,  filled  with  leaden  cofiins.  He  even  talked 
with  the  people  of  the  village,  after  his  old-time  fashion, 
and  gathered  such  legends  as  they  could  remember. 
He  was  now  on  familiar  ground  and  speedily  finished  the 
latest  story,  bringing  'Count  Robert'  to  a  close  about 
the  same  time.  The  two  were  published  in  November, 
183 1,  as  the  Fourth  Series  of  'Tales  of  My  Landlord.' 
These  volumes  completed  the  literary  labours  of  Sir 
Walter,  except  that  he  continued  to  work  a  little  at  his 
notes  and  introductions,  but  at  last  he  took  the  advice  of 
his  friends  and  agreed  to  do  no  more  work  of  an  exacting 

393 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

nature.  A  Journey  to  the  Continent  followed,  including 
a  visit  to  Malta,  but  in  the  following  year  he  was  glad 
to  return  to  his  beloved  Abbotsford.  On  the  21st  of 
September,  1832,  lying  in  the  dining-room  of  the  man- 
sion which  his  industry  and  courage  had  saved  to  his 
family,  and  listening  to  the  rippling  of  his  beloved  river 
Tweed,  the  brave  and  honourable  as  well  as  honoured 
writer,  breathed  his  last.  He  had  fought  a  good  fight 
and  died  in  the  belief  that  he  had  won.  And  so  he  had. 
For  although  the  debt  was  not  entirely  paid,  the  subse- 
quent sale  of  copyrights  realized  enough  to  satisfy  all 
claims.  Scott's  sense  of  honour  and  superb  courage 
had  won  a  glorious  victory. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

A  SUCCESSFUL  LIFE 

In  travelling  so  many  miles  to  view  the  scenery  of 
Scott's  work,  I  think  the  strongest  impression  I  have 
received  is  that  of  the  all-pervading  personality  of  Scott 
himself.  It  was  one  of  the  joys  of  the  experience  that 
so  many  places,  not  particularly  attractive  in  them- 
selves, should  suddenly  become  interesting  when  found 
to  be  connected  in  some  way  with  Scott's  life  or  with 
something  he  had  written;  and  that  scenes  of  great 
natural  beauty  should  become  invested  with  a  new 
fascination  whenever  they  were  found  to  suggest  some 
line  of  poetry  or  to  recall  some  well-remembered  inci- 
dent. I  am  sure  I  should  never  have  given  a  second 
thought  to  the  bit  of  an  old  wall  which  is  now  the  scant 
remnant  of  Triermain  Castle,  had  I  passed  it  without 
knowledge  of  its  identity;  but  it  was  worth  going  far 
out  of  the  way  to  see,  if  only  for  the  sake  of  realizing 
how  the  merest  fragment  of  an  old  ruin  could  suggest  a 
poem  to  Scott  and  how  he  could  rebuild  a  castle  in  all 
its  early  magnificence  and  people  it  with  the  children  of 
his  fancy. 

I  know  of  no  more  romantic  place  in  all  of  beautiful 
Scotland  than  the  vale  of  the  Esk,  where  the  river  flows 
between  high  cliffs,  clothed  with  thick  shrubbery  and 
overhanging  vines;  and  one  can  stand  by  the  side  of  the 
stream,  looking  over  the  lacelike  foliage  of  the  tree-tops, 
and  catch  glimpses  now  and  then  of  some  fascinating  old 
ruin,  peeping  down  like  a  fairy  castle,  lodged  in  the 

395 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

topmost  branches.  Yet  when  I  recall  its  charm,  I  cannot 
help  remembering  how  it  transformed  an  Edinburgh  law- 
yer of  small  reputation  into  a  poet  of  world-wide  fame. 

Wherever  we  went,  whether  driving  through  the 
Canongate  of  Edinburgh,  or  looking  across  the  Tweed 
toward  the  Eildon  Hills,  or  listening  to  the  shrill  screams 
of  the  sea-fowl  as  they  dashed  about  the  dizzy  heights 
of  St.  Abb's  Head,  or  wandering  quietly  through  the 
woods  that  lend  a  wild  and  fairy-like  enchantment  to 
the  Trossachs,  there  was  always  the  feeling  that  Scott 
had  been  there  before  and  had  so  left  the  impress  of  his 
personality  that  his  spirit  seemed  to  remain. 

It  was  a  pleasant  sensation,  for  there  seemed  to  be  in 
it  an  indefinable  consciousness  of  the  presence  of  Scott's 
own  genial  nature,  that  spirit  of  good-fellowship  which 
so  delighted  Washington  Irving  when  he  enjoyed  the  rare 
privilege  of  wandering  over  the  hills  and  valleys  with 
Sir  Walter,  listening  to  countless  anecdotes  and  ballads, 
and  sharing  his  boundless  hospitality  for  several  days. 

This  feeling  became  more  and  more  intense  as  we 
went  about  in  the  Border  Country,  which  must  be 
regarded  as  Scott's  real  home,  and  it  reached  its  cul- 
mination when  we  came  to  Abbotsford.  Here,  thanks 
to  the  courtesy  of  Mr.  James  Curie,  the  representative 
in  Melrose  of  the  Honourable  Mrs.  Maxwell-Scott,  a 
great-granddaughter  of  the  poet  and  the  present  owner 
of  the  estate,  we  were  greeted  with  a  kindness  worthy 
of  Sir  Walter's  own  ideas  of  hospitality.  We  seemed  to 
meet  the  original  owner  face  to  face  —  not  the  poet  — 
not  the  novelist  —  but  Walter  Scott,  the  man. 

The  great  mansion  and  the  spacious,  well-wooded 
estate  which  he  took  so  much  joy  in  creating  and 

396 


A  SUCCESSFUL  LIFE 

struggled  so  desperately  to  save,  seemed  to  typify  all 
the  success  and  all  the  failure  of  his  career.  The  garden 
with  the  arched  screen,  copied  by  his  own  desire  from 
the  cloisters  of  Melrose  Abbey;  the  pile  of  stones  in  the 
centre,  that  once  formed  the  base  of  the  ancient  Mercat 
Cross  of  his  native  city;  the  stone  image  of  the  favourite 
old  stag-hound  Maida,  placed  just  outside  the  door,  as 
a  constant  reminder  of  the  faithful  friend  of  many 
years;  the  entrance  itself,  copied  from  the  Palace  of 
Linlithgow;  the  hall,  with  its  fine  carved  woodwork 
from  the  old  Kirk  of  Dunfermline;  the  museum  with 
its  collection  of  guns,  swords,  armour,  and  curious 
articles  of  every  description,  suggesting  the  author's 
antiquarian  tastes  and  the  loving  interest  which  scores 
of  friends  took  in  presenting  him  with  the  things  they 
knew  he  would  appreciate;  the  library  with  its  thousands 
of  volumes  representing  the  author's  own  literary  tastes; 
the  study  with  his  own  desk  and  chair ;  the  dining-room 
with  its  highly  prized  ancestral  portraits;  and  the  bay- 
window  through  which  Sir  Walter  looked  for  the  last 
time  upon  the  rippling  waters  of  his  beloved  Tweed — all 
these  seemed  to  bring  his  kindly  personality  nearer  to  us. 
I  believe  it  was  this  all-pervading  personality,  the 
spirit  of  brotherly  kindness,  of  generosity  and  of  love, 
that  made  Scott's  life  a  success.  It  is  reflected  through 
page  after  page  in  the  novels  and  poems,  and  shines  out 
brilliantly  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  Lockhart's 
great  biography.  It  is  the  very  essence  of  that  whole- 
some quality  which  has  been  so  often  remarked  as  one 
of  the  most  distinguishing  characteristics  of  the  Waver- 
ley  Novels. 
-  There  were  no  signs  on  Scott's  property  warning 

397 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

trespassers  to  'keep  out.'  He  felt  that  such  things 
would  be  ofifensive  to  the  feelings  of  the  people  and  if 
any  of  his  neighbours  could  shorten  a  journey  by  walk- 
ing through  his  grounds,  he  wanted  them  to  have  the 
advantage.  There  was  one  sign  on  his  land,  by  a  broad 
path  through  the  woods,  reading  'The Rod  to  Selkirk.' 
The  spelling  was  Tom  Purdie's,  but  the  implied  invi- 
tation to  take  a  'short  cut'  through  the  private  estate 
was  warmly  endorsed  by  his  master.  It  was  a  pleasure 
to  him  to  see  children  come  up  with  a  pocketful  of  nuts 
gathered  from  his  trees,  rather  than  run  away  at  sight 
of  him,  and  he  declared  that  no  damage  had  ever  been 
done  in  consequence  of  the  free  access  which  all  the 
world  had  to  his  place. 

When  he  walked  over  his  estate,  talking  familiarly 
with  Maida,  who  almost  invariably  accompanied  him, 
he  would  stop  for  a  friendly  word  with  every  tenant. 
'  Sir  Walter  speaks  to  every  man  as  if  they  were  blood 
relations,'  said  one  of  them.  Happy  the  companion 
who  could  take  such  a  walk  with  him.  'Oh!  Scott  was 
a  master  spirit  —  as  glorious  in  his  conversation  as  in 
his  writings,'  wrote  Irving.  'He  spoke  from  the  fulness 
of  his  mind,  pouring  out  an  incessant  flow  of  anecdote 
and  story,  with  dashes  of  humour,  and  then  never 
monopolizing,  but  always  ready  to  listen  and  appreciate 
what  came  from  others.  I  never  felt  such  a  conscious- 
ness of  happiness  as  when  under  his  roof.' 

The  same  kindliness,  experienced  by  tenants  and 
visitors,  was  extended  to  the  servants  of  the  family,  as 
Tom  Purdie  could  heartily  testify.  Tom  was  brought 
before  Scott,  as  sheriff,  charged  with  poaching.  He  told 
his  story  with  such  pathos,  —  of  a  wife  and  many  chil- 

398 


A  SUCCESSFUL  LIFE 

dren  to  feed,  of  scarcity  of  work  and  abundance  of 
grouse,  —  mingling  with  it  so  much  sly  humour,  that  the 
'Shirra's'  kind  heart  was  touched.  He  took  Tom  into 
his  own  emplo)rment  as  shepherd,  and  no  master  ever 
had  a  more  faithful  servant.  When  Purdie  died,  twenty- 
five  years  later,  he  was  laid  to  rest  in  the  churchyard 
of  Melrose  Abbey,  where  his  grave  is  marked  by  a 
simple  monument,  inscribed  by  his  master,  'in  sorrow 
for  a  himible  but  sincere  friend.'  Peter  Mathieson,  a 
brother-in-law  of  Tom,  who  was  employed  as  coachman 
about  the  same  time,  survived  his  master.  The  portraits 
of  both  these  servants  occupy  an  honoured  place  on  the 
walls  of  the  armoury  at  Abbotsford. 

No  man  was  ever  on  more  delightful  terms  with  his 
family  than  Sir  Walter.  Captain  Basil  Hall,  who  spent 
a  Christmas  fortnight  at  Abbotsford,  recorded  that 
'even  the  youngest  of  his  nephews  and  nieces  can  joke 
with  him,  and  seem  at  all  times  perfectly  at  ease  in  his 
presence  —  his  coming  into  the  room  only  increases 
the  laugh  and  never  checks  it  —  he  either  joins  in  what 
is  going  on,  or  passes.'  When  writing  in  his  study,  if 
Lady  Scott  or  the  children  entered,  his  train  of  thought 
was  not  disturbed.  He  merely  regarded  the  interruption 
as  a  welcome  diversion  by  which  he  felt  refreshed. 
Sometimes  he  would  lay  down  his  pen  and,  taking  the 
children  on  his  knee,  tell  them  a  story;  then  kissing 
them,  and  telling  them  to  run  away  till  supper-time,  he 
would  resmne  his  work  with  a  contented  smile.  He  con- 
sidered it '  the  highest  duty  and  sweetest  pleasure '  of  a 
parent  to  be  a  companion  to  his  children.  They  in  turn 
reciprocated  by  sharing  with  'papa'  all  their  little  joys 
and  sorrows  and  taking  him  into  their  hearts  as  their 

399 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

very  best  playfellow.  No  man  ever  took  more  pleasure 
in  the  education  of  his  children.  On  Sundays  he  would 
often  go  out  with  the  whole  famUy,  dogs  included,  for 
a  long  walk,  and  when  the  entire  party  were  grouped 
about  him,  by  the  side  of  some  pleasant  brook,  he 
would  tell  stories  from  the  Bible,  weaving  into  them 
all  that  picturesque  charm  and  richness  which  have 
made  his  written  stories  so  delightful.  He  taught  his 
children  to  love  the  out-of-door  life,  and  especially  in- 
sisted upon  their  attaining  proficiency  in  horsemanship, 
that  they  might  become  as  fearless  as  himself .  'With- 
out courage,'  he  said,  'there  cannot  be  truth;  and  with- 
out truth,  there  can  be  no  other  virtue.' 

What  Scott  taught  his  children,  he  impressed  upon 
all,  by  the  force  of  example,  throughout  his  hfe.  Shortly 
before  his  death,  in  a  few  simple  words,  he  epitomized 
his  creed  —  without  intending  to  do  so  —  in  a  tender 
parting  message  to  his  son-in-law.  'Lockhart,'  he  said, 
*I  may  have  but  a  minute  to  speak  to  you.  My  dear, 
be  a  good  man  —  be  virtuous  —  be  religious  —  be  a 
good  man.  Nothing  else  will  give  you  any  comfort 
when  you  come  to  lie  here.'  When  Lockhart  asked  if  he 
should  send  for  Sophia  and  Anne,  he  said,  'No,  don't 
disturb  them.  Poor  souls!  I  know  they  were  up  all 
night  —  God  bless  you  all.' 

This  lifelong  desire  to  'be  good'  and  to  do  good,  with- 
out the  slightest  affectation,  prudery,  or  sanctimonious- 
ness, was  I  believe  the  crowning  glory  of  Scott's  life 
and  the  secret  of  his  success. 

Yet  in  many  ways  Scott  was  not  successful.  Judged 
by  that  test  which  is  the  only  one  allowed  to  many  men, 
his  life  was  distinctly  a  failure.  In  the  ordinary  usage  of 

400 


A  SUCCESSFUL  LIFE 

the  term,  a  man  is  accounted  successful  if  he  accom- 
plishes his  chief  aim  in  life.  Wealth  is  the  aim  of  so 
many  that  rich  men  are  usually  considered  successful, 
and  those  who  die  poor  are  commonly  supposed  to  be 
failures. 

Scott  aimed  to  write  a  popular  kind  of  poetry,  and  in 
this  he  succeeded.  He  then  turned  to  fiction  and  here  he 
was  even  more  successful.  But  this  kind  of  success  did 
not  represent  his  supreme  desire.  He  sought  to  make  it 
the  means  to  an  end,  and  the  dream  of  his  life  was,  after 
all,  wealth.  Not  riches  for  himself.  He  was  never  mean 
enough  for  that,  and  selfishness  did  not  enter  into  his 
nature.  It  was  wealth  for  his  family  that  he  desired. 
He  was  a  man  of  great  pride  and  the  old  feudal  system 
was  full  of  attractiveness.  He  knew  every  detail  of  the 
history  of  the  Scott  family  for  centuries.  He  revered  the 
Duke  and  Duchess  of  Buccleuch  as  the  head  of  his  clan. 
As  his  writings,  year  after  year,  brought  him  financial 
returns  almost  fabulous  in  size,  he  began  to  cherish  the 
desire  to  found  a  new  branch  of  the  Scott  Clan.  The 
irresistible  impulse  to  add  new  lands  to  Abbotsford, 
regardless  of  cost,  and  to  erect  a  great  mansion,  fit  for 
the  residence  of  an  earl,  all  sprang  from  this  one  motive. 
The  readiness  with  which  he  purchased  a  captaincy  in 
the  army  for  his  eldest  son,  at  a  cost  of  £3500,  and  the 
cheerfulness  with  which  he  settled  nearly  the  whole  of 
Abbotsford  upon  young  Walter  and  his  afiianced  bride, 
promising  that  if  he  should  be  spared  ten  years  he  would 
give  them  as  much  more,  are  striking  indications  of  his 
intense  longing  to  establish  the  Scotts  of  Abbotsford 
among  the  great  families  of  Scotland. 

In  this,  the  greatest  ambition  of  his  life,  Scott  was 
401 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

completely  thwarted.  Though  Abbotsford  was  saved 
from  the  wreck  of  his  fortunes  by  an  almost  superhiunan 
effort,  the  estate  which  passed  to  his  heirs  was  not  so 
large  as  he  had  expected,  nor  did  his  sons  live  long  to 
enjoy  it.  The  eldest,  Walter,  died  in  1847,  and  as  he  had 
no  son,  the  baronetcy  expired  with  him.  The  younger 
son,  Charles,  had  died  in  1841. 

The  failure  of  Scott's  hopes  was  the  result  of  a  long 
chain  of  circimistances.  In  early  life  he  had  undertaken 
the  practice  of  law,  and  continued  for  ten  years  without 
rising  above  the  level  of  mere  drudgery,  his  earnings  for 
the  first  five  years  averaging  only  eighty  pounds  annu- 
ally and  probably  not  rising  very  much  higher  during 
the  subsequent  years.  Finding  it  necessary,  at  length, 
to  give  up  the  law  entirely,  he  arranged  to  secure  an 
appointment  as  Clerk  of  the  Court  of  Session,  to  suc- 
ceed an  aged  incumbent  of  that  office.  The  agreement 
was  that  Scott  should  do  the  work  while  his  predecessor 
drew  the  pay,  in  consideration  of  which  he  was  to  have 
the  entire  emolument  after  the  old  gentleman's  death. 
The  office  was  worth  eight  hundred  pounds  a  year  and 
offered  a  very  fair  substitute  for  the  small  earnings  at 
the  bar.  Unfortunately  the  gentleman  was  so  inconsid- 
erate as  to  prolong  his  existence  for  six  years  after  the 
bargain  was  made. 

Scott  was  already  in  possession  of  a  private  income  of 
one  thousand  pounds,  to  which  the  office  of  Sheriff  of 
Selkirk  added  three  hundred  pounds,  and  was  beginning 
to  receive  large  rewards  for  his  literary  labour, '  The  Lay 
of  the  Last  Minstrel'  bringing  him  £769  65.  for  the 
first  and  second  editions.  It  might  be  supposed  that 
such  an  income  would  satisfy  a  young  man  not  yet 

4M 


A  SUCCESSFUL  LIFE 

thirty-four.  Scott,  however,  was  ambitious,  and  feeling 
the  need  of  the  additional  income  which  did  not  at  once 
materialize  from  the  clerkship,  sought  to  make  up  the 
deficiency  by  investing  nearly  aU  his  capital  in  a  com- 
mercial venture.  He  entered  into  a  secret  partnership 
with  James  Ballantyne  in  the  printing  business,  which 
proved,  with  one  exception,  to  be  the  greatest  mistake 
of  his  life.  The  exception,  which  marked,  in  Lock- 
hart's  phrase,  'the  blackest  day  in  his  calendar,'  was  in 
connecting  his  fortunes  with  John  Ballantyne  in  the 
pubUshing  business. 

James  Ballantjnie's  greatest  fault  was  a  tendency  to 
rely  too  much  upon  Scott's  judgment,  and  the  latter 
was  too  much  swayed  by  generous  motives  to  be  a 
prudent  business  manager.  He  would  favour  the  publi- 
cation of  an  unmarketable  book  rather  than  disappoint 
a  friend.  Moreover,  his  own  great  interest  in  works  of 
an  historical  or  antiquarian  nature  often  led  him  astray. 
His  judgment  of  good  literature  was  better  than  his 
knowledge  of  what  the  public  was  likely  to  buy.  The 
firm  became  loaded  with  unprofitable  enterprises,  which 
they,  in  turn,  unloaded,  in  part,  upon  Constable,  thus 
contributing  one  of  the  causes  of  the  latter's  downfall. 
Another  weakness  of  James  Ballantyne,  who  was  an 
excellent  printer  and  in  many  ways  an  exemplary  man, 
was  his  distaste  for  figures  and  utter  indifference  to  his 
balance-sheets  —  a  fatal  error  for  a  business  man. 

John  Ballantyne,  a  younger  brother  of  James,  was 
a  light-headed,  happy-go-lucky,  careless  little  fellow, 
who  could  amuse  a  company  of  friends  with  comic 
songs  and  droll  mimicry,  who  loved  all  kinds  of  sports, 
drove  a  tandem  down  the  Canongate,  was  fond  of  dissi- 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  SCOTT 

pation  and  gay  company,  and  without  the  slightest 
capacity  for  business  or  interest  in  it.  Like  his  brother 
he  was  intensely  fond  of  Scott  and  loyal  to  him,  but  a 
reckless  adventurer  and  spendthrift.  Scott  nicknamed 
him  '  Rigdumfunnidos '  and  was  always  amused  by  him, 
but  could  scarcely  have  had  respect  for  his  business 
qualities.  It  must  always  remain  a  mystery  why  he 
entrusted  so  large  an  interest  in  his  own  fortimes  to 
such  a  weakling. 

An  alliance,  and,  what  is  worse,  a  secret  one,  with  two 
such  men,  who  could  not  in  any  sense  act  as  a  brake 
upon  Scott's  own  impulses  nor  steady  him  with  the 
business  experience  which  he  sadly  lacked,  was  mistake 
enough;  but  Scott  himself  committed  a  serious  error  in 
his  own  affairs.  He  fell  into  the  habit  of  selling  his  ht- 
erary  productions  before  they  were  written,  and  carried 
this  folly  to  such  an  extreme  that  about  the  time  of  the 
issue  of  'The  Fortunes  of  Nigel,'  he  had  received  pay- 
ment, by  notes,  from  the  bookseller,  for  no  less  than 
four  works  of  fiction,  which  at  that  time  had  not  even 
been  planned.  They  subsequently  appeared  as  'Peveril 
of  the  Peak,'  'Quentin  Durward,'  'St.  Ronan's  Well,' 
and  'Redgauntlet.'  The  proceeds  were  spent  upon  the 
castle  at  Abbotsford  before  the  books  were  even  named. 
John  Ballantyne  was  rapidly  spending  money  which  his 
firm  had  not  earned,  and  Scott,  who  ought  to  have 
remonstrated  against  such  rashness,  was  committing  the 
same  fault  on  a  larger  scale.  Under  the  circumstances 
the  only  wonder  is  that  the  disaster  was  so  long  averted. 
When  it  came,  Scott  found  himself  involved  in  the  debts 
of  the  Ballantynes  to  the  extent  of  £ii7,ocx). 

With  superb  courage  he  rose  to  the  emergency. 

404 


SCOTT   MONUMENT,    EDINBURGH 


A  SUCCESSFUL  LIFE 

Assuming  the  entire  burden,  and  struggling  against 
almost  insuperable  difficulties,  he  succeeded  in  paying 
£63, OCX),  or  considerably  more  than  half  of  the  indebted- 
ness. Life  insurance  of  £22,000  and  £2000  in  the  hands 
of  his  trustees  reduced  the  debt  to  about  £30,000,  which 
sum  was  advanced  by  Cadell,  the  publisher.  All  the 
creditors,  except  the  latter,  were  then  paid  in  full,  and 
in  1847,  fifteen  years  after  Scott's  death,  Cadell  was 
paid  by  a  transfer  of  copyrights  and  the  entire  obligation 
was  thus  finally  extinguished. 

Had  Scott  died  at  the  time  of  the  Constable  failure, 
leaving  his  affairs  to  be  settled  by  the  ordinary  process 
of  the  law,  and  the  Ballantyne  creditors  unpaid,  the 
world  would  never  have  known  whether  the  unprece- 
dented success  of  his  literary  labours  was  after  all  quite 
sufficient  to  counterbalance  the  disastrous  failure  of  his 
business  affairs. 

The  catastrophe,  however,  brought  out  all  the  sterling 
qualities  of  his  character.  How  much  courage  he  pos- 
sessed, what  a  high  sense  of  honour,  what  patience, 
what  endurance,  even  his  closest  friends  had  never 
realized.  Just  as  those  kindly  personal  qualities  had 
woven  an  indescribable  charm  into  the  products  of  his 
fancy,  such  as  no  other  series  of  writings  had  ever  before 
possessed,  so  the  highest  and  noblest  traits  of  his  char- 
acter responded  to  the  call  of  a  great  emergency,  and 
converted  the  failures  of  a  lifetime  into  a  final  triumph. 


THE  END 


INDEX 


Abbot,  The,  4, 10,  265-871;  348- 
Abbotsford,  39,  46,  8g,  90,  133,  146,  220, 

233,  346,  352,  360,  376,  394.  396,  397, 

398,  399,  401,  402- 
Abercorn,  Lady,  letter  to,  22. 
Abercrombie,  George,  119. 
Aberfoyle,  74;  clachan  of,  192,  193;  194; 

old  bridge,  193. 
Adam,  Rt.  Hon.  William,  267,  368. 
Albany,  Duke  of,  381,  384.  385. 
Allan-Fraser,  Patrick,  154. 
Allan,  the  river,  259. 
Alsatia  (Whitefriars),  323,  324. 
Amboglanna,  136.  . 
Annan,  357. 
Annan,  the  river,  359. 
Anne  of  Geierstein,  391,  393. 
Anne,  Queen,  374. 
Antiquary,  Tta,  145-159. 
Arbroath,  151-iSS;  158. 
Argyle,  John,  Duke  of,  202,  207. 
Argyle,  Marquis  of,  325,  226,  327,  228,  231. 
Arthur's  Seat,  8,  60. 
Asbby  de  la  Zouch,  334,  235,  236. 
Ashestiel,  48,  62,  106,  346,  353. 
Auchmithie,  155,  158. 
Avon,  the  river,  383. 

Baiglie,  the  Wicks  of,  10,  37S. 

Bailie,  Joanna,  letter  to,  366. 

Balfour,  John,  of  Burley,i69, 177, 178, 179. 

Baliol,  Barnard,  founder  of  Barnard  Castle, 

88. 
Ballantyne,  James,  s,  io6,  365,  373,  391, 

392,  403. 
Ballantyne,  John,  5,  373,  372,  403,  404, 
Balmawhapple,  124. 
Balquhidder,  Kirk  of,  188,  189. 
Balue,  Cardinal  John  de  la,  234,  343. 
Bannockbum,  81,  104. 
Bard's  Incantation,  The,  159. 
Barnard  Castle,  86-88,  92. 
Beaton,  Cardinal,  155. 
Becket,  Thomas  i,  373. 
Bemerside  Heights,  352. 
Ben  An,  12,  76. 
Ben  Ledi,  ta,  73,  77. 
Ben  Lomond,  12,  193. 
Ben  Nevis,  333. 
Ben  Venue,  13,  74,  76,  78. 
Betrothed,  T^e,  365-369. 
Bimam  Wood,  380. 


Bishop's  Palace,  the,  Kirkwall,  307. 

Blackford  Hill,  8,  57.  59- 

Black  Ormiston,  the  Laird  of,  original  of 

Julian  Avenel,  261. 
Blackwood,  William,  criticism  by,  of  The 

Black  Dvmt/,  165. 
Blair  Adam  Club,  The,  267. 
Black  Dwarf,  The,  15, 160-165. 
Blenheim,  battle  of,  374. 
Blenheim  Palace,  373-375. 
Bohun,  Sir  Henry  de,  104. 
Border  Minstrelsy,  52. 
Borthwick,  the  river,  35. 
Bothwell  Bridge,  168,  170,  171. 
Both  well  Castle,  172. 
Bower,  Johnny,  guide  at  Melrose,  4t. 
Bowhill,  seat  of  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch,  35. 
Bowness,  357. 

Bradwardine,  Bears  of,  107,  109. 
Bradwardine,  Cosmo  Comyne,  118,  123. 
Bradwardine,  Rose,  113. 
Braes  of  Balquhidder,  11,  66,  78,  186,  187, 

196. 
Branksome  Hall,  37,  43. 
Branxton  Hill,  7. 
Bridal  of  Triermain,  Trb,  16,  30,  21,  91, 

96-99;  104. 
Bride  of  Lammermoor,  The,  215-333; 

190. 
Brignall  Woods,  91,  92. 
Brig  o'  Turk,  71,  74,  77. 
Brogar,  Bridge  of,  310. 
Brown  Square,  9. 
Bruce,  John,  discoveries  of,  in  Kinrossness, 

Shetland,  298,  299. 
Bruce,  Robert,  40,  80,  loi,  102,  103,  124, 

129,  152,  191,  230,  262,  304,  332. 
Bryant,  William  Cullen,  quoted,  164. 
Buccleuch,  Duchess  of  (Countess  of  Dal- 
keith), 31,  33,  34.  46. 
Buccleuch,  Duke  of,  32;  35;  46;  49. 
Buchanan,  Francis,  120. 
Buchanan,  John,  72,  120. 
Burgh-upon-Sands,  358. 
Bums,  Robert,  126,  143. 
Byron,  Lord,  104. 

Cadell,  Robert,  393,  405. 
Cadyow  Castle,  30;  quotation,  31 . 
Caerlaverock  Castle,  12^-139,  135,  357. 
Caerlaverock  Churchyard,  grave  of  Old 
Mortality,  167. 


407 


INDEX 


Calton  HiU,  60. 

Cambus  Kenneth,  80. 

Cambusmore,  72,  130. 

Campbell,  Robert  MacGregor,  original  of 

Rob  Roy,  exploits  of,  183-1S8;  death  of, 

i8g. 
Campsie  Linn,  no,  383. 
Canongate,  The,  Edinburgh,  aog. 
Cargill,    George,    original    of    Saunders 

Mucklebackit,  156. 
Cariisle,  ai,  121,  3S7,  3S8,  362. 
Caroline,  Queen,  204. 
Carpenter,  Miss  Charlotte  Margaret.   See 

Lady  Scott. 
Carrick,  Margaret,  original  of  Tib  Mumps, 

m- 

Castell  Coch,  Wales,  368. 

Castell  Dinas  Bran,  367. 

Castle  Dangerous,  190,  393. 

Castle    Street,    Edinburgh,    Number   39, 

Scott's  residence,  346. 
Castleton,  328. 
Cat  Castle  rocks,  94. 
Catbcart  Castle,  271. 
Chambers,  Robert,  quoted,  202,  304. 
Chambers,  William,  quoted,  163. 
Charles  I,  90,  225,  233,  319.  322,  326,  374- 
Charles  II,  184,  243,  325,  336,  330,  332, 

334.  33S.  376.  38s- 
Charles  of  Burgundy,  338,  343,  344,  345> 

392. 
Chaucer,  374. 

Chillingham  Castle,  189-190,  191. 
Christian,  William  (William  Dhdne),  332. 
Chronicles  of  the  Canongate,  The, 

387-394- 
Churchill,  John,  Duke  of  Marlborough,  374. 
Clare,  Lady,  61,  63. 
Claverhouse,  John  Grahame  of,  170,  171, 

179- 
Cleikum  Inn,  350. 
Clerk,  William,  original  of  Darsie  Latimer, 

9,  no,  367. 
Clickimin  (Cleik-kitn^n),  Pictish  btoch,  398. 
Clifford  Tower,  350. 
Cluden,  the  river,  136,  305. 
Clyde,  the  river,  173. 
Coldingham  Abbey,  56. 
Coldingham  Priory,  333. 
Coldstream,  7,  61. 
Colmslie,  360. 

Comines,  Philippe  de,  341,  34S.  393. 
Coningsburgh,  Castle  of,  346,  347,  348,  249, 

2SO. 

Constable,  Archibald,  373,  373,  403,  404, 

40s. 
Constable,  George,  original  of  Monkbams, 

4.  147. 
Constance  de  Beverly,  54-56,  64. 


Corehouse,  Lord,  4a. 

Corra  Linn,  173. 

Count  Robert  of  Paris,  39a. 

Cragg  Force,  94. 

Craighall,  12,  no,  in,  112. 

Craignethan  Castle,  original  of  Tillietnd- 

lem,  172-173. 
Craigroyston,  185,  186. 
Cranstoun  (Lord  Corehouse),  original  of 

the  Baron  of  Cranstoun,  43. 
Cranstoun,  Miss  (The  Countess  of  Purg- 

stall),  190. 
Crichope  Linn,  177. 
Crichton  Castle,  s^s8,  221. 
Cromwell,  Oliver,  241,  374,  376,  377,  385. 
Crookston  Castle,  270,  271. 
Crosbie,  Andrew,  original  of  Paulus  Pley- 

dell,  141. 
Culloden,  battle  of,  116,  133,  133. 
Cumberland,  13s,  136. 
Cumnor  Church,  279. 
Cumnor  Hall,  272,  273,  376,  377,  378. 
Cumnor,  the  village,  273,  281. 
Curie,  James,  396. 

Dacre,  Thomas,  Lord,  20,  43. 

Daim,  Oliver  le,  342. 

Dalgetty,  old  soldier,  114. 

Dairy mple,  James,  Lord  Stair,  original  of 

Sir  William  Ashton,  315,  3x6. 
Dalzell,  General,  179. 
Damley,  Henry,  Lord,  husband  of  Maty 

Queen  of  Scots,  267,  271. 
David  I,  380. 

David  II,  son  of  Robert  Bruce,  183. 
David  Deans,  house  of,  212. 
Davidson,    James,    original    of    Dandie 

Dinmont,  137. 
Dee,  river  in  Wales,  367. 
Deepdale,  94. 
Derby,  Cotmtess    of    (Charlotte    de    la 

Tremouille),  332. 
Derby,  Earls  of,  332. 
Derbyshire,  328. 
Devil's  Beef  Tub,  361. 
Dirk  Hatteraick's  cave,  131,  133. 
Dods,  Mrs.  Margaret,  350. 
Don,  the  river,  247. 
Douglas,  George,  269,  370. 
Douglas,  Lady,  369. 
Douglas,  'The  Little,'  original  of  Roland 

Graeme,  370. 
Douglas,  Sir  William,  369. 
Douglas,  village  of,  393. 
Doune  Castle,  13,  80,  i3o. 
Driver,  Counsellor  Pleydell's  clerk,  14a. 
Drumclog,  battle  of,  170,  171. 
Dryburgh  Abbey,  304,  353. 
Dryhope,  35. 


408 


IiNTDEX 


Dudley,  Edmund,  325. 

Dudley,  Guildford,  274,  325,  326. 

Dudley,  John,  Eiarl  of  Warwick  and  Duke 
of  Northumberland,  274,  277,  281,  325. 

Dudley,  Robert.  See  Leicester. 

Dugald  Ciar  Mohr,  ancestor  of  Rob  Roy, 
183. 

Dumbarton,  172,  270. 

Dumbiedykes,  212. 

Dumfries,  126,  127,  130,  131,  13s,  191. 
Maxwelltown  observatory,   166;   the 
Mid  Steeple,  205;  Church  of  Kirkpatrick 
Irongray,  207. 

Duncan,  Rev.  Dr.,  353. 

Duncraggin,  77. 

Dundrennan  Abbey,  270,  360. 

Dunfermline,  the  Abbey,  40,  304. 

Dunottar,  Scott's  meeting  with  Old  Mor- 
tality, 167. 

Dunstafinage,  230,  231,  232,  379. 

Dwarfie  Stone,  the,  312. 

Earl's  Palace,  the,  Kirkwall,  307. 

Edinburgh,  7,  8. 

The  Old  Town,  9,  10;  Brown  Square, 
g;  High  Street,  141;  Parliament  Square, 
199-202;  St.  Giles,  60, 199-203;  Tolbooth, 
9,  200-20S,  233;  Advocates'  Library,  200; 
Grassmarket,  203,  204;  King's  Park,  209, 
212;  Canongate,  209, 266;  Salisbury  Crags, 
7,  8,  60,  210,  389;  Queensbury  House, 
266;  the  Castle,  346;  Castle  St.,  346;  St. 
Cuthbert's  Church,  114;  St.  Leonard's 
Crags,  8, 2i2;theCowgate,  201;  West  Bow, 
201;  St.  Anthony's  Chapel,  8,  210,  211. 

Edward  I,  129,  191,  231,  324,  358,  379. 

Edward  HI,  374. 

Edward  IV,  23s,  240. 

Edward  VI,  274. 

Egliston  Abbey,  92,  93. 

Eildon  Hills,  the,  38,  347,  352,  396. 

Elibank,  36,  49,  106,  139,  352. 

Elizabeth,  Queen,  272,  273,  274,  27s,  286, 
287,  321,  326,  332. 

Ellen's  Isle,  69,  76. 

Ellis,  George,  32,  52,  96;  quoted,  61,  64. 

Emerson,  Ralph  Waldo,  opinion  of  The 
Bride  of  Lammermoor,  quoted,  215. 

English  Lakes,  the,  is,  16,  96. 

Engaddi,  369,  370. 

Erskine,  Rev.  John,  lo. 

Erskine,  William,  51,  96,  375. 

Esk,  vale  of  the.  See  Roslin  Glen. 

Etal  Castle,  62. 

Ethie  Castle,  154, 153. 

Ettrick  Forest,  47. 

Ettrick,  the  river,  175. 

EvE  OF  St.  John,  Tsb,  3,  30. 

Eyemouth,  222. 


Faa,  Gabriel  (Tod  Gabble),  138. 

Fair  Maid  of  Pe&th,  The,  11,  378-386; 
house  of,  382. 

Fairy  Dean,  259. 

Falkland  Castle,  383,  384,  385. 

Fast  Castle,  220. 

Feckless  Fannie,  original  of  Madge  Wild- 
fire, 213. 

Ferguson,  Dr.  Adam,  15,  160,  162. 

Ferguson,  Sir  Adam,  15,  16,  81,  267. 

Field  of  Waterloo,  Ita:,  104. 

Fitful  Head,  the,  300. 

Fitz  James.  See  James  V. 

Flodden  Field,  7,  53,  58,  61,  62,  64,  2S7. 

'Flower  of  Yarrow,'  the,  35. 

Forbes,  Sir  William,  i8,  95,  389. 

Ford  Castle,  62. 

Forth,  the  river,  188,  192. 

Fortunes  of  Nigel,  The,  316-327,  404. 

Fort  William,  231. 

Foster,  Anthony,  274,  276,  279. 

Fountains  Abbey,  243,  244. 

Friar  Tuck,  237,  243,  252. 

Gardiner,  Colonel,  4, 116. 

Ganger's  Loup,  the,  131. 

Gemmels,  Andrew,  original  of  Edie  Ochil- 
tree, 6, 148. 

George  II,  327. 

George  V,  231,  320,  323. 

Gilmerton,  280. 

Gilsland,  16,  20,  97,  136, 159,  349- 

Glasgow  — 

The  Cathedral,  191, 192;  the  Tolbooth, 
192;  the  Salt  Market,  192;  theTrongate, 
195;  Langside,  270. 

GlencapJe,  127,  357. 

Glendearg,  259,  260. 

Glen  Finglas,  74. 

Glenfinlas,  30. 

Glenfruin,  battle  of,  183. 

Glengarry.  See  MacDonnel. 

Gloucester,  Cathedral  of,  369. 

Goblin  Cave,  the,  78. 

Goldie,  Mrs.,  207. 

Gordon,  Jean,  original  of  Meg  Merrilies, 
6,  7,  138. 

Gordon,  Madge,  Queen  of  the  Gipsies,  6, 
138. 

Gow,  John,  original  of  Cleveland,  313. 

Gowrie  Conspiracy,  221,  385. 

Grahame,  John.  See  Claverhouse. 

Graham  of  Killeam,  186-187. 

Grassmarket,  Edinburgh,  203,  204. 

Gratz,  Rebecca,  original  of  Rebecca,  252. 

Gray  Brother,  The,  30. 

Gray,  Daft  Jock,  original  of  Davie  Gellat- 
ley,  118. 

Grandtully  Castle,  13, 109,  ixi.  iia. 


409 


INDEX 


Greenwich  Palace,  called  PUcentia,  326. 

Greta,  the  rivei,  89,  91,  94. 

Grey,  Lady  Jane,  274,  325,  326. 

Grey  Mare's  Tail,  X76,  177. 

Grierson  of  Lag,  361. 

Guy  Manneking,  126-144;  scenes  from, 
in  Edinburgh,  10;  Liddesdale,  15;  Eng- 
land, 16. 

Guy's  Cliffe,  381. 

Gwenwynwyn,  Welsh  hero,  368,  369. 

Haddon  Hall,  329,  330,  331. 

Hall,  Captain  Basil,  399. 

Hallyards,  residence  of  Dr.  Adam  Feiguscm, 

160. 
Hal  o'  the  Vlyad,  house  of,  383. 
Harden,  35. 
Harden,  Wat  of,  106. 
Hakold  the  Dauntless,  104. 
Harthill,  site   of  Front-de-Boeuf's  castle, 

239- 
Hastings,  William,  Lord,  235. 
Hawthomden,  24. 
Hawthorne,    Nathaniel,    his    opinion    of 

Scotland,  256. 
Heart  of  Midlothian,  The,  8, 199-314, 

326. 
Heber,  Richard,  52. 
Henry  I,  373. 
Henry  H,  329,  373. 
Henry  UI,  374. 
Henry  VII,  240,  274,  33S. 
Henry  VIII,  244,  258,  331,  325,  326. 
Heriot,  George,  318,  319. 
Heron,  Lady,  60,  63. 
Heron,  Sir  Hugh,  7,  53. 
Herries  family,  the,  339-360. 
Highland  Widow,  The,  389,  390. 
High  Street,  Edinburgh,  9,  141. 
Hillslap,  260. 

Hoddam  Castle,  3S9.  360,  361. 
Hogg,  James,  the  Ettrick  shepherd,  36, 

139,  144,  176. 
Holyrood  Abbey,  304,  381. 
Holyrood  Palace,  10,  60,  ii3, 113,  209,  266, 

267. 
Hospitalfield,  Arbroath,  iS3. 
Howard,  Lord  William  ('Belted  Will'),  3i, 

43,  231. 
Hoy,  Island  of,  312. 

Hughes,  Mrs.,  of  Uffington,  quoted,  124. 
Hutton,  Richard  H.,  quoted,  64. 

Innerleithen,  349. 

loverary  Castle,  227,  331. 

Inverlochy,  battle  of,  336,  331-333;  Castle, 

332. 
Inversnaid,  119;  the  fort,  196;  the  falls,  197- 
Jooi,  103,  331. 


Irthing  River,  the,  30,  97,  349. 

Irving,  John,  7. 

Irving,  Washington,  visit  of,  to  Abbots- 
ford,  352,  396;  Scott's  letter  to,  353; 
quoted,  41,  47,  145,  146,  347,  398. 

IVANHOE,  334-254,  345. 

James  I  of  Scotland,  120,  139,  381,  385. 
James  II  of  Scotland,  83,  120,  381,  385. 
James  III,  58,  81,  i3o. 
James  IV,  53,  58,  59,  60,  63,  81,  120. 
James  V,  47,  58,  81;  as  Fitz  James,  67,  75, 

79,  80,  84;  as  '  Gudeman  of  Ballangeicb,' 

82,  129,  342,  385. 
James  VI  of  Scotland  Qames  I  of    Eng- 

land),  36,  82,  321,  233,  317-33X,  334- 

3*7,  385. 
James  VIII,  the  'Old  Pretender,'  113. 
Jarlshof,  Shetland  Islands,  294,  398,  399, 

300,  308. 
Jedburgh,  14. 

Jeffrey,  Lord,  96;  quoted,  64. 
Jervaulx  Abbey,  242. 
John,  King,  335,  242,  351,  374. 
Jones,  Paul,  130. 

Keith,  Mrs.  Murray,    original    of    Mrs. 

Bethune  Baliol,  390. 
Keith,  Sir  Alexander,  109. 
Kelso,  S.  6,  7,  26,  150,  3S3,  3S8. 
Kenilworth,  272-289. 
Kenilworth  Castle,  373,  275,  277,  381,  283, 
288,  289. 

Mortimer's  Tower,  283,  284,  287. 

The  Gallery  Tower,  283,  384,  386.      , 

Cssar's  Tower,  284.  { 

Leicester's  Building,  284. 

Henry  VIII's  Lodgings,  285. 

The  White  Hall,  285. 

The  Presence  Chamber,  285. 

The  Great  Hall,  285,  287. 

Mervyn's  Tower,  286,  287. 

The  Pleasance,  287. 
Kenneth  MacAlpine,  231. 
Kilpont,  Lord,  original   of   the   Eail  of 

Menteitb,  225-228. 
Kilsyth,  battle  of,  233. 
Kinblethmont,  158. 
Kinfauns,  Castle  of,  379. 
Kinross,  268. 
Kirkcudbright,  130,  131. 
Kirk  Yetholm,  6,  138.  » 
Kirkwall,  capital  of  the  Orkney  Islands, 

303-309. 
Knox,  John,  267,  380. 

Lady  of  the  Lake,  The,  13,  33,  33, 66-8s< 
Lag,  Castle  of,  361. 
Laidlaw,  William,  347,  348. 


410 


INDEX 


Lammermuir  Hills,  318,  231. 

Lanark,  172. 

Lanercost  Priory,  20,  44,  97. 

Lang,  Andrew,  quoted,  64,  214,  377. 

Langshaw,  260. 

Langside,  battle  of,  270,  271. 

Lasswade  Cottage,  22,  25,  45,  346. 

Lauderdale,  Duke  of,  179,  180. 

Lanrick  Mead,  71,  77,  78. 

Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel,  The,  31,  28- 

46,  348;  quotation  from,  24. 
Lediard  Falls,  121,  195. 
Legend  of  Montrose,  A,  4,  224-233. 
Leicester,  Earl  of  (Lord  Robert  Dudley), 

273,  274,  27s,  276,  277,  278,  280,  283, 

284,  285,  286,  287. 
Leicester's  Commonwealth,  anonymous  pam- 
phlet, 276. 
Lennel,  7,  61. 
Leny,  Falls  of,  229. 
Lerwick,  capital  of  the  Shetland  Islands, 

291-293,  296,  303,  311. 
Leslie,  General,  225,  233. 
Leyden,  Dr.  John,  letter  to,  48. 
Liddesdale,  raids  into,  i,  14,  36,  137. 
Lihge,  319,  343,  344,  345. 
Life  of  Napoleon,  372. 
Lincluden  Abbey,  126,  127. 
Ljndisfame  Abbey,  S4-56. 
Lindsay,  Sir  David,  56,  58. 
Linlithgow,  58. 
Llangollen,  Wales,  366, 367;  the  'Ladies'  of, 

367. 
Loch  Achray,  12,  74. 
Loch  Ard,  74,  192,  194,  19s. 
Loch  Arklet,  196. 
Loch  Corriskin,  100. 
Loch  Doine,  78. 
Loch  Fyne,  231. 
Loch  of  Harray,  310. 
Loch  Katrine,  11,  1 2,  66,  71,  74,  76,  78, 

loi,  184,  187. 
Loch  Leven  Castle,  267,  268,  269,  359. 
Loch  Linnhe,  226,  230,  231,  233. 
Loch  Lomond,  12,  119,  i30,  183-185,  196. 
Loch  of  the  Lowes,  175. 
Loch  Lubnaig,  77,  78,  193,  339. 
Loch  Oich,  123. 
Loch  Scavig,  102. 
Loch  Skene,  176,  177. 
Loch  of  Sleapin,  102. 
Loch  of  Stennis,  310. 
Loch  Tay,  379. 
Loch  Vennachar,  12,  71. 
Loch  Voil,  78,  189,  196. 
Loches,  Castle  of,  341,  342. 
Lockhart,    John    Gibson,    97,   347,    400; 

quoted,  48,  64,  214,  353,  3I7,  336,  366, 

371,  372,  377,  391- 


London,  316,  317,  320,  327,  334,  335. 
London  Bridge,  325. 
Lord  of  the  Isles,  The,  100-105. 
Louis  XI  of  France,  338,  339, 340, 341, 343, 

344.  345- 
Lyulph's  Tower,  98. 

Macallister's  Cave,  102. 

MacDonald,  Flora,  original  of  Flora  Mac- 
Ivor,  122. 

MacDonnel,  Colonel  Ronaldson,  of  Glen- 
garry, 123. 

MacGregor,  Clan,  182-184. 

MacGregor,  Helen,  Rob  Roy's  wife,  195. 

Mackay,  Charles,  198. 

Mac  Vicar,  Minister  of  St.  Cuthbert's,  114. 

Maida,  Scott's  favourite  dog,  123,  note; 
371-375,  398. 

Major  Oak,  the,  in  Sherwood  Forest,  239- 
240. 

'Making'  of  Sir  Walter,  the,  1-27. 

Malcolm  Graeme,  68,  79,  84. 

Man,  Isle  of,  130,  331. 

Manor  Water,  vale  of,  15,  160,  163. 

Marck,  William  de  la,  342. 

Margaret,  Lady,  of  Branksome  Hall,  33, 
37,  41,  44  45- 

Marmion,  7,  8,  20,  47-65,  353;  quotatioM 
from,  3,  8. 

Marquis  of  Annandale's  Beefstand,  361. 

Marriott,  Rev.  John,  50. 

Mary,  Queen  of  England,  274,  275,  326, 
335. 

Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  58,  81,  265,  266, 
267,  268,  269,  270,  271,  272,  275, 359, 385. 

Mathieson,  Peter,  399. 

Mayburgh,  98. 

Meg  Merrilies,  131,  137,  138. 

'  Meikle-mouthed  Meg,'  story  of,  36. 

Melrose,  33,  38-42,  45.  106,  255,  258,  265, 
266,  304,  347,  348,  3S2,  399- 

Menteith,  Lake,  73. 

Mercat  Cross,  of  Melrose,  261. 

Middleham  Castle,  240,  241. 

Miller,  A.  H.,  quoted,  195. 

Millie,  Bessie,  original  of  Noma  of  the 
Fitful  Head,  313,  314. 

Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border,  15, 
25.  29,  31- 

Mitchell,  Robert,  169,  180. 

Moddey  Dhoo,  legend  of  the,  334. 

Moffat,  172,  175,  176. 

Moffat  Water,  175. 

Monastery,  The,  4,  255-264,  348. 

Monkbams  (Hospitalfield),  153. 

Monmouth,  Duke  of,  170,  171,  179. 

Montrose,  Duke  of,  182, 185, 187, 196,  202. 

Montrose,  the  Marquis  of,  335,  3a6,  328, 
333,  333;  sword  of,  333- 


4H 


INDEX 


Morritt,  John  B.  S.,  89,  go,  91,  134.  i97- 

Mortham  Castle,  Sg,  94. 

Morton,  The  Regent,  303. 

Mount  Sharon,  5. 

Mousa,  brocb  of,  347,  300,  301. 

Mucklebackit.  Saunders,  i55-i57- 

Multon,  Sir  Thomas  de,  of  Gilsland,  31, 

369. 
Mump's  Ha',  136,  137. 
Murdock,  Duke  of  Albany,  139. 
Murray,  E^l  of,  10,  30. 
Murray,  Sir  Gideon,  of  Elibank,  36. 
Muschat's  Cairn,  Edinburgh,  31a 

Nasmytb,  Sir  James,  163. 

Naworth  Castle,  10,  43,  44,  331. 

Neidpath  Castle,  351. 

Nethan,  the  river,  172. 

Neville,  Richard,  EaJrl  of  Warwick,  383. 

Newark  Castle,  35. 

Nith,  the  river,  136,  127,  357. 

Norham  Castle,  7,  53,  56. 

Oakwood  Tower,  Stronghold  of  Wat  of 

Harden,  35. 
Oban,  230,  231. 
Ochn  Mountains,  59. 
Odin,  Stone  of,  311,  313. 
Old    Mortality,    166-181;    Tennyson's 

opinion  of.  167. 
Originals  of  Characters  — 
Alasco,  an  Italian  physician  employed 

by  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  277. 
Lucy   Ashton,   Janet    Dalrymple,    216, 

217. 
Lady  Ashton,  Lady  Stair,  216,  217. 
Sir  William  Ashton,  James  Dalrymple, 

Lord  Stair,  215,  216. 
Julian  Avenel,  the  Laird  of  Black  Or- 

miston,  261. 
Mrs.    Bethune    Baliol,    Mrs.    Murray 

Keith,  390. 
Bevis,  Maida,  Scott's  dog,   123,  note; 

371-375.  398. 
The  Black  Dwarf,  David  Ritchie,  160. 
Josiah  Cargill,  Rev.  Dr.  Duncan,  353. 
Cleveland,  John  Gow,  313. 
Baron  Cranstoun,  George  Cranstoon,  42. 
Effie  Deans,  Isabella  Walker,  205-208. 
Jeanie  Deans,  Helen  Walker,  205-208. 
Dandle     Dinmont,     James    Davidson, 

137;  Willie  Elliott,  137;  Mr.  Laidlaw, 

137- 
Meg  Dods,  Marian  Ritchie,  350. 
Driver,   a   clerk   of  Andrew   Crosbie's, 

142-143- 
Alan  Fairford,  Sir  Walter  Scott,  9, 362. 
Saunders  Fairford,  Walter  Scott,  father 

of  Sir  Walter,  9,  363. 


Rachel  Geddes, '  Lady '  Waldie,  s,  3S8. 

Davie  Gellatley,  Daft  Jock  Gray,  118. 

Roland  Graeme,  'The  Little  Douglas,' 
270. 

Dr.  Gideon  Gray,  Dr.  Ebenezer  Clark- 
son,  391. 

Dirk  Hatteraick,  Yawkins,  a  Dutch  skip- 
per, 131. 

Darsie  Latimer,  William  Clerk,  9,  362. 

Alice  Lee,  Anne  Scott,  376. 

Allan  McAulay,  James  Stewart,  237, 
228. 

Flora  Maclvor,  Flora  MacDonald,  122. 

Colonel  Mannering,  Sir  Walter  Scott, 
144. 

Margaret  of  Branksome,  Williamina 
Stuart,  43. 

Matilda  of  Rokeby,  Williamina  Stu- 
art, 95. 

Earl  of  Menteith,  Lord  Kilpont,  227. 

Meg  Merrilies,  Jean  Gordon,  6,  138, 
148-151. 

Saunders  Mucklebackit,  George  Cargill, 
156. 

Tib  Mumps,  Margaret  Carrick,  137; 
Margaret  Teasdale,  137. 

Noma  of  the  Fitful  Head,  Bessie  Millie, 
313. 

Edie  Ochiltree,  Andrew  Gemmels,  6. 

Jonathan  Oldbuck  (Monkbams),  Sir 
Walter  Scott,  4,  146;  George  Con- 
stable, 4,  147 

Old  Mortality,  Robert  Paterson,  i66. 

Paulus  Pleydell,  Andrew  Crosbie,  141- 
142;  Adam  RoUand,  143. 

Rebecca  of  York,  Rebecca  Gratz,  252, 
353- 

Sir  Robert  Redgauntlet,  Grierson  of  Lag, 
361. 

Hugh  Redgauntlet,  one  of  the  Herries 
family,  359. 

Rob  Roy,  Robert  MacGregor  Campbell, 
182. 

Dominie  Sampson,  George  Thomson, 
140. 

Diana  Vernon,  Miss  Cranstoun,  190; 
Miss  Williamina  Stuart,  191;  Lady 
Scott,  191. 

Edward  Waverley,  Sir  Walter  Scott,  135. 

Madge  Wildfire,  Feckless  Fannie,  213. 
Orkney  Islands,  Scott's  visit  to,  in  a  light- 
house yacht,  100. 
Osbaldistone  Hall    (Cbillingham    Castle), 

189-X90. 
Oxford,  University  of,  275,  276. 

Paterson,  Robert,  original  of  Old  Mortality, 

166-168,  17X. 
Peat,  description  of,  295-396. 


412 


INDEX 


Peebles,  350,  3S1,  3S». 

Peel  Castle,  Isle  of  Man,  333. 

Penrith,  98. 

Peronne,  319,  343,  344- 

Perth,  10,  109,  226,  231,  378-388. 

Peveril  Castle,  328,  330. 

Peveril  of  the  Peak,  328-336,  404. 

Philiphaugh,  233. 

Piakie,  battle  of,  257. 

Pirate,  The,  290-315. 

Plessis  les  Tours,  337,  338,  339,  340,  341. 

Pleydell,  Paulus,  13s,  140-143- 

'  Popping  Stone,'  the,  20. 

Porteous,  John,  203-204. 

Porteous  Mob,  story  of,  205. 

Powis  Castle,  Wales,  368. 

'Prentice's  Pillar,  the,  370. 

Prestonpans,  4,  114,  115,  116,  147. 

Purdie,  Tom,  398,  399. 

Purgstall,  Countess  of,  42. 

Queen  Margaret's  Bower,  s8. 
QuENTrN  Ddeward,  337-346;  347,  404. 

Raby  Castle,  93. 

Raeburn  House,  350. 

Ramsay,  David,  319,  320,  323. 

Red  Comyn,  the,  191. 

Redgauntlet,  s.  9,  355-364,  404. 

Red  Head,  Cliffs  of,  ISS- 

Reiver's  Wedding,  The,  37. 

Ren6,  King,  392. 

Richard  I,  43,  234,  239,  242,  248,  251,  365, 

369,  374. 
Richard  II,  369. 
Richard  III,  240,  282. 
Richmond  Castle,  241,  242. 
Ritchie  David,  original  of  the  Black  Dwarf, 

15.  160. 
Robert  III,  381,  384- 
Robin  Hood,  237,  239,  245,  246,  252. 
Robin  Hood's  Well,  246. 
Rob  Roy,  II,  12,  182-198. 
Rob  Roy's  cave,  119,  197. 
Rob  Roy's  pm,  233. 
Robsart,  Amy,  274,  275,  276,  277,  278,  280, 

284,  287. 
Roderick  Dhu,  67,  68,  76,  77,  78,  79- 
RoKEBY,  19,  86-95,  96,  104. 
Roman  wall  at  Amboglanna,  136. 
Rosamond's  Well,  373. 
Rosebank,  14. 
Rose,  William  Stewart,  50. 
Roslin  Chapel,  369. 
Roslin  Glen  (vale  of  the  Esk),  33,  33,  24, 

30,  45,  89,  94. 
Rotherham,  236. 
Rothsay,  Duke  of,  381,  384. 
Rushen,  Castle,  Isle  of  Man,  331,  332. 


Saddleback,  135. 

St.  Abbs  Head,  218,  220. 

St.  Anthony's  Chapel,  Edinburgh,  8,  310, 

311. 

St.  Bride,  the  chapel  of,  77. 

St.  Clair,  William,  370. 

St.  Cuthbert's  Church,  114. 

St.  Cuthbert's  Holy  Isle,  54-56. 

St.  Giles  Cathedral,  60,  199-203. 

St.  John,  Church  of,  Perth,  380. 

St.  John,  Valley  of,  98. 

St.  Leonard's  Crags,  Edinburgh,  8,  313. 

St.  Magnus,  Cathedral  of,  304,  305,  306, 
307. 

St.  Margaret's  Loch,  Edinburgh,  210. 

St.  Mary's  Loch,  35,  175. 

St.  Ronan's  Well,  346-354,  404. 

St.  Thomas's  Abbey  (St.  Ruth's),  151, 152. 

Salisbury  Crags,  the,  Edinburgh,  7,  8,  60, 
210,  389. 

Sandy  Knowe,  2,  51,  353. 

Scalloway,  Castle  of,  298,  302,  303,  309. 

Scalloway,  village  in  the  Shetland  Islands, 
302. 

Scone,  Palace  of,  no,  231,  379,  381,  385. 

Scott  Country,  the,  limits  of,  337,  346,  366. 

Scott,  Anne,  daughter  of  Sir  Walter,  48, 
376,  400. 

Scott,  Charles,  son  of  Sir  Walter,  48,  402. 

Scott,  Daniel,  brother  of  Sir  Walter,  383. 

Scott,  Miss  Janet,  aunt  of  Sir  Walter,  a,  5. 

Scott,  John,  brother  of  Sir  Walter,  15,  90. 

Scott,  Lady  (wife  of  Sir  Walter),  introduc- 
tion of,  to  Sir  Walter,  17,  329;  courtship, 
19,  20;  marriage,  21;  home  at  Lasswade, 
22,  23;  reference  to  Dryburgh,  352,  353; 
sickness  and  death,  372,  376,  399. 

Scott,  Michael,  the  wizard,  38,  41. 

Scott,  Mrs.  Maxwell-,  granddaughter  of 
Sir  Walter,  396. 

Scott,  Sophia,  daughter  of  Sir  Walter,  48, 
400. 

Scott,  Thomas,  brother  of  Sir  Walter,  333. 

Scott,  Sir  Walter  — 

Liddesdale  raids,  i;  residence  at 
Sandy  Knowe,  2;  visit  to  Prestonpans,  4; 
his  first  pony,  4;  at  Kelso,  5;  passes  law 
examinations,  13;  visit  to  English  Lakes, 
15;  to  Gilsland,  16;  meets  Miss  Carpen- 
ter, 17,  349;  marriage,  21;  quartermaster 
of  Edinburgh  Volunteers,  25 ;  his  memory, 
26;  decides  to  abandon  the  practice  of 
law,  28-30;  Sheriff  of  Selkirk,  29;  early 
poems,  30;  Ashestiel,48, 49;  visit  to  High- 
lands, 72,  116;  purchases  Abbotsford, 
89;  Clerk  of  Court  of  Session,  90;  aided 
by  Sir  William  Forbes,  95;  later  High- 
land excursion,  119,  120;  visit  from 
Joseph  Train,   133;   visit  to  Dumfries, 


413 


INDEX 


135;  to  English  Lakes,  135;  salmon  spear- 
ing incident,  130;  at  University  of  Edin- 
burgh, 139;  visited  by  Irving,  145-146; 
experience  as  member  of  Edinburgh 
Volunteers,  138-159;  visit  to  Halljrards, 
160;  visit  to  Loch  Skene,  175-177;  visit 
to  the  Braes  of  Balquhidder,  188;  clerk 
of  Court  of  Session,  300;  driving  through 
Canongate,  209;  suggests  building  the 
Radical  Road,  aio;  guest  at  Studley 
Royal,  246;  visited  by  Washington  Irv- 
ing, 253;  '  refreshing  the  machine,'  355; 
presentation  to  the  Duke  of  Wellington, 
366;  visit  to  Shetland  Islands,  294,  398, 
311.  313,  314;  familiarity  with  history 
and  literature  of  England,  317;  duties 
as  clerk  of  the  Court  of  Session,  346; 
residence  in  Edinburgh,  346;  fondness 
for  country  life,  347 ;  practices  in  case  of 
Peter  Peebles,  363;  visit  to  Wales,  366; 
distressing  change  in  personal  affairs, 
371;  announcement  of  authorship  of 
Waverley  Novels,  372;  visit  to  Wicks  of 
Baiglie,  Perth,  378;  feeling  toward 
brother  Daniel,  383;  circumstances  under 
which  The  Pair  Maid  of  Perth  was  writ- 
ten, 386;  paying  off  the  debt,  387;  writ- 
ings of  the  last  five  years,  388;  importuni- 
ties of  a  creditor,  389;  Theatrical  Fund 
Dinner,  390;  spirit  of  perseverance,  392; 
apoplexy  and  other  ailments,  393;  jour- 
ney to  the  Continent,  394;  death,  394; 
personality  of,  395;  kindness,  397;  gen- 
erosity, 398;  conversation,  398;  relations 
with  family,  399,  400;  creed,  400;  ambi- 
tion, 401;  failure  of  hopes,  403;  relations 
with  the  Ballantynes,  403,  404;  indis- 
cretion, 404;  courage  and  final  triumph, 
405. 

Scott,  Walter,  'Beardie,'  great-grand- 
father of  Sir  Walter,  37. 

Scott,  Walter,  father  of  Sir  Walter,  original 
of  Saunders  Fairford,  9. 

Scott,  Walter,  son  of  Sir  Walter,  48, 401 ,  403. 

Scott,  Sir  William,  of  Harden,  36. 

Scott,  Sir  William,  of  Buccleuch,  37. 

Seymour,  Lord,  377. 

Sharp,  James,  Archbishop,  168-169,  180. 

Sbarp>e,  Charles  Kirkpatrick,  360. 

Sherwood  Forest,  336,  337. 

Shetland  Islands,  visit  to,  in  a  Ughthoose 
yacht,  100. 

Shortreed,  Robert,  i,  14,  26, 137. 

Skene,  James  of  Rubblaw,  53,  338,  393; 
quoted,  35,  36,  63,  138,  139,  176. 

Skiddaw,  135. 

Skye,  Island  of,  100,  103. 

Smailholm,  3,  3,  4,  30,  361,  347. 

Smellie,  William,  141. 


Solway  Firtb,  136,  lay,  355.  3S6,  isi- 

Somerset,  the  Duke  of,  377. 

Staffa,  I03. 

Stennis,  stones  of,  310,  311. 

Stewart,  Alexander  of   Invemahyle,  116, 

117,  118. 
Stewart,  James,  of  Ardvoirlich,  original  of 

Allan  McAulay,  188.  327,  238. 
Stewart,  Patrick,  Earl  of  Orkney,  298, 303, 

308,  309. 
Stirling  Castle,  66,  78,  80-84,  381. 
Stonebyres  Linn,  173. 
Strathgartney,  78. 
Stromness,  village  in  Orkney,  310,   311, 

312,313- 
Stuart,  Charles  Edward,  10,  109,  iii,  113, 

113,  114,  116,  I30,  135,  3S8,  363. 
Stuart,  Lady  Louisa,  197,  214,  336,  364. 
Stuart,    Miss    Williamina    (Lady   Stuart- 
Forbes),  Scott's  first    love,  17,  18,  33; 

original  of  Margaret  of  Branksome,  43; 

original  of  Matilda,  95. 
Studley  Royal,  343,  246. 
Sumburgh  Head,  294,  396,  397,  298,  300. 
Surgeon's  Daughter,  The,  389,  390. 
Sweetheart  Abbey,  136,  137,  135. 
Swift,  Life  of,  91. 

Tales  of  the  Crusaders,  365-370. 
Talisman,  The,  si,  345,  365,  369-372. 
Tantallon  Castle,  60,  61. 
Tay,  the  river,  109,  no,  379. 
Teasdale,     Margaret,     original     of    Tib 

Mumps,  137. 
Tees,  the  river,  89,  92,  93,  94. 
Teith,  the  river,  339. 
Temple,  the,  London,  333,  333,  334. 
Terry,  Daniel,  197,  375. 
Teviot,  the  river,  35. 
Thames,  the,  London,  330,  333. 
Thomas  the  Rhymer,  333. 
Thomson,    George,   original   of   Dominie 

Sampson,  140. 
Thomson,   Rev.  John,    of    Duddingston, 

330. 

Thoresby  House,  338. 

Thorsgill,  the  river,  93,  93. 

Tillietudlem.  See  Craignethan. 

Tippermuir,  battle  of,  326. 

Tolbooth,  Edinburgh,  9,  301-305,  333. 

Tours,  339,  341. 

Tower  of  London,  335. 

Train,  Joseph,  provides  information  used 
in  The  Lord  of  the  Isles,  103;  in  Guy 
Mannering,  132-135;  in  Old  Mortality, 
171;  in  The  Heart  of  Midlothian,  314. 

Traquair,  Earl  of,  108, 109. 

Traquair  House,  13,  107,  108,  109,  113, 
339. 


414 


INDEX 


Triermain  Castle,  3i,  97,  30s. 

Triermain  Castle  Rock,  16,  g3. 

Trossachs,  the,  13,  66,  70,  71,  74,  75. 

TuUy  Veolan,  107-111. 

Turnberry  Castle,  103. 

Tweed,  the  river,  258,  348-353,  396,  397. 

Twlsel  Bridge,  7. 

Two  Drovers,  The,  389,  390,  391. 

UUswater,  97. 

Vaux,  Sir  Roland  de,  97. 

Vernon,  Dorothy,  of  Haddon  Hall,  329. 

Villiers,  George,  first  Duke  of  Buckingham, 
called  '  Steenie,'  319,  332. 

Villiers,  George,  second  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham, 335. 

Waldie  family,  the,  of  Kelso,  5,  358. 
Waldie,  'Lady,'  original  of  Rachel  Geddes, 

5. 
Waldie,  Robert,  $■ 
Wales,  366,  367,  368. 
Walker,  Helen,  original  of  Jeanie  Deans, 

205-208. 
Walker,  Isabella,  original  of  Effie  Deans, 

205-208. 
Walker,  Patrick,  author  of  Life  of  Cameron, 

213. 
Wallace,  William,  81. 
Wampool  River,  the,  358. 
Wark  Castle,  62. 
Warrender,  Sir  George,  109. 
Warwick  Castle,  281,  383,  383. 


Warwick,  Earl  of,  340. 

Warwickshire,  281. 

Wat  of  Harden,  35. 

Waverley,  8,  10,  106-135,  197. 

Welbeck  Abbey,  238. 

Welshpool,  368. 

Westmoreland,  135. 

Whinnyrig,  357. 

Whitefoord,  Colonel,  116,  117. 

Whitefriars  (Alsatia),  333,  324. 

Whitehall,  Palace  of,  321,  322,  335. 

Wldeford  Hill,  Kirkwall,  309. 

William  the  Conqueror,  241,  348,  250,  383, 

328,  373. 
William  the  Lion,  152,  155. 
Williams,     Rev.     John,    Archdeacon    of 

Cardigan,  366. 
Wolf's  Crag,  220. 
Wolf's  Hope,  323. 
Woodstock,  371-377. 
Woodstock,  village  of,  373;  palace  of,  373- 

375- 
Wordsworth,  16;  letter  to,  32;  35,  172. 
Wright,  Guthrie,  57;  quoted,  135. 
Wycliffe,  Oswald,  88. 

Yarrow,  the  river,  175. 

Yawkins,  Dutch  skipper,  original  of  Dirk 

Hatteraick,  131. 
Yetholm  Loch,  260. 
York,  Castle  of,  350. 
York  Minister,  251. 
York,  city  of,  234,  350. 
York  Water  Gate,  333. 


Abe  mibecjfiDe  ^ce^^ 

CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
U  .  S   .  A 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


Form  L9-Serie8  444 


UC  SOU-HERN  REG 


A     000  994  151 


BA 

866 

0^3c 


